All the truth is on the table
by anime gher
Summary: PWP? ZoroSanji... Just what IS up with Sanji's left eye? Zoro's going to find out (proves my sucky summary skill yet again)
1. Smoke gets in your eyes

Disclaimer: All characters and boobies belong to Eiichiro Oda and other producing companies, etc, etc...

Warning for gay sex, pulp-fiction level language, and liberal amounts of artistic license.

Zoro opened his eyes up to the same blue sky with small, white clouds spotting the horizon. It was a wonder that they always sailed on such calm seas with such perfect weather day after day. It was like Luffy had somehow managed to get on the better side of Mother Nature, singing loudly on top of the figurehead to the rhythm of someone hammering. Zoro rolled his head around on the deck to spot Usopp nailing a support beam onto the mast of the ship. Even if Luffy did have some strange luck with the weather, there was nothing protecting the ship from Luffy. The idiot captain had somehow managed to trip and run headfirst into the mast, causing more damage to the wood than anything else. Usopp did his best to take care of things, but there was no helping it when such a destructive person like Luffy was around. Zoro had never known anyone to be more durable and... so _blindingly _stupid. There wasn't a day that went by where Zoro didn't have to remind himself exactly why he was following this brain dead, wet-behind-the-ears, stunningly naïve delinquent around. If Luffy weren't so damn confident about becoming the Pirate King, Zoro would have never agreed to become a crewmember in the first place. There was something about that son of a bitch, beyond that monstrous strength of his, which made Luffy worth following...

Even if he had yet to hit a single note right as that horrible singing rang in Zoro's ears. What a fucking appalling way to wake up, rubbing a hand through his hair as he sat up lazily to look around the ship. Robin was probably down below deck, reading some book and gracefully avoiding the usual insanity that was their crew. Zoro had to respect a classy woman like that, and not just for her Devil Fruit ability-unlike another woman. Nami had unfolded her lawn chair and was tanning on the raised deck of the stern, a newspaper on her lap and a large umbrella over her head. That devil woman looked like a princess right now in a white bikini, a half-empty drink hanging from her fingers and a little smile on her fox-like face. Sanji didn't help matters by serving on that witch's every whim and favor. Zoro could tell she was plotting something from this far away; Nami never gave it a rest. He could hear the coins dropping through her selfish head even across the deck. He somehow _still_ owed that damn thief money, though he had paid her back four times over now. That interest kept adding up, Zoro somehow always ending up in the hole. Fortunately, he hadn't joined this pirate ship in order to make money.

"Oh, Zoro, you're awake?" Usopp asked around a mouthful of nails, glancing over his shoulder as Zoro sat up from what was either his morning or afternoon nap. Zoro couldn't quite remember. The days between landing at each dock just blurred together, nothing to do beyond attacking the occasional ship they came across or killing a Sea King for dinner. It was still nothing worth calling actual sword practice, his three swords sheathed, waiting on the deck next to him. There was no reason to carry them when they were on such miserably peaceful waters. Zoro could only train, endless push-ups, sit-ups, weight-lifts, and constantly swinging a sword over and over again in the same exact move for hours on end... and then he would nap until something better came up. Except today, he had already finished his usual training and seemed to have napped as long his body could stand.

"Anything going on?" Zoro asked, wiping tears from his eyes as he stretched and stood up. Amazing how easily he had settled into this life with these guys, so carefree that it could make someone go insane- if he didn't from Luffy's antics alone. He had never gotten thrown around more in his whole life, cursing the day some deranged power-that-be had seen fit to make something like the Devil's Fruits. And a rubber one at that? Zoro wouldn't be able to guess at how anyone would be able to use that ability as a weapon, but Luffy had proven to be ridiculously powerful over and over again. He was easily the strongest pirate in East Blue, but he still had a long way to go until becoming Pirate King... Just like Zoro was still not the strongest swordsman in the world. He would make his ambitions come to life, no matter if it was as a villainous pirate or the fearsome Three-Sword Pirate Hunter. Luffy and he had something in common when it came to their dreams. Luffy completely understood his ambition and wasn't about to get in the way of it, which was something that no one else had seemed able to do before. Each and every one of them on this ship had a dream that they were going to see through, and for some reason it seemed attainable with Luffy as their captain.

"Chopper's talking to the seagulls. Apparently there's an island somewhere around here," Usopp answered after taking the nails out of his mouth. Zoro couldn't help but slowly look up the main mast to see a pink top-hat and a small hoof gesturing wildly at a pair of birds that had landed on the edge of the look out. It was certainly helpful having a creature that could talk to animals, even if the reindeer-man was a total coward. Zoro was surprised that the blue-nosed reindeer had even climbed up that high. Chopper would probably be screaming for help down soon enough. Until there was confirmation on the island, Zoro could either nap again or start singing with Luffy. He frowned, rubbing his stomach as he realized that he was hungry at last.

"Is it dinner yet?" Zoro asked, trying to find the sun in the sky so he would be able to tell the time. Except he could tell it was somewhere behind the sails, hopelessly in the middle of the afternoon. Usopp began to grin, a malicious glint in his eyes when Zoro's stomach growled underneath his green waistband.

"_You missed lunch,_" Usopp sang out, one hand covering his mouth underneath that absurdly long nose of his as he dared to laugh at Roronoa Zoro.

He walked away from Usopp, after giving the little freak a well-deserved punch on the head. The idiot was lying in a smoking heap on the deck, no more smart comments coming out of his mouth after being knocked unconscious. He shook his head at the village kid, wondering how Usopp had managed to get mixed up with them as well. Beyond that wickedly long nose, he was every bit of normal; perhaps a little too easy to knock out, but that was to be expected.

Zoro went to the galley, opening up to door to what served as Sanji's working and living room. If the navigation room was Nami's, the kitchen was definitely Sanji's, his own hammock hanging close to the stove. Zoro had first thought the man was really an fool, the perfect example of a dumb blonde...until they had entered the Snow Country and Sanji had a warm, goodnight's sleep every time. Zoro had quickly become jealous of Sanji's sleeping arrangement, shoved between Usopp and Luffy for one night _more_ than intolerable. He had ended up sleeping in the hallways, telling himself that being cold was a part of training as well. At least they were back in good weather, the sun almost strong enough to be too hot, if not for the soft breeze that was pushing the Going Merry through the waters right now. It was definitely hotter in the galley though, something going on the stove and smoke hanging in the air from the smoking blonde sitting at the table. Despite the large pot sitting on top of an open flame, the cook was smoking and relaxing at the corner of the large table that served as the ship's dining area.

Zoro closed the door and walked in, sitting down at the end of the bench opposite of Sanji without greeting. The blonde didn't glance up, his one visible eye focused down on the work between his hands. The jacket was gone and his shirtsleeves were folded up to the elbow, his tie loose and collar open in the stuffy heat of the kitchen. The smoke swirled around at his entrance, marking his disturbance to whatever Sanji might have been in the middle of. Zoro couldn't understand how a man could smoke in these kinds of conditions, already feeling a sweat break out on his neck. It didn't seem to touch the cook other than his loose and rumpled shirt, blowing out even more smoke from his frowning mouth. There was a mess of flour, eggshells, used spoons and measuring cups with a dozen other things that Zoro didn't really care about. In front of Sanji was an opened wooden box and a bag of loose, dried, brown tobacco spilled out onto the table. There was a packet of white papers, one being rolled by Sanji right now. Zoro raised an eyebrow, not knowing before that Sanji had made his own cigarettes, hopelessly fascinated by the process. Sanji had the paper loosely folded long-ways, his fingers pinching the edges together while he rubbed it down, working the tobacco into it's typical thin cylinder shape. He paused, holding it carefully with one hand as he took a final hit from the cigarette already burning his mouth before pressing it out in the ashtray by his hand. Zoro watched as Sanji ran his tongue along the edge of the paper before setting it against the table and quickly twisting it up, blowing out a smooth line of thick gray smoke the whole while. The cook padded the cigarette into shape with thin fingers, picking up a lighter and burning it along the length of the paper to seal the loose edges. After one final examination, the cigarette passed a silent test and was set down off to the side, finally finished.

He couldn't help but get caught up in watching Sanji's hands. They really were something else, even though the cook never used them to fight. He had declared his hands too precious to his life as a cook to be broken punching someone when he had perfectly good shoes on his feet. Even saying that, Sanji's fingers were still callused and rough. There were scars from mishandling knives, just like Zoro did from when he was a kid first learning how to handle a katana. He could only assume that those cuts and burns had come from when Sanji had been foolish and inexperienced as well, since he hadn't seen the blonde drop a cutting knife once. Sanji handled open grease fires like a man that had no fear of death, sautéing creations that Zoro had never even imagined. It had been quite a change to suddenly have a gourmet chef cooking for him all the time, used to scavenging on the streets or through pirate ships for food. He didn't even _know _that there could be seven courses in one meal.

"Are you just going to stare the whole fucking time, or did you actually have a question?" Sanji asked at last, raising up that ludicrous curly eyebrow at Zoro's silent observation of the cigarette-making process. He liked blondes, and he liked the short, stylish way Sanji wore his hair. He did have to wonder why Sanji always kept his left eye covered though. In fact, there were a lot of questions he had to ask the stupid Love Cook, now that Zoro thought about it. There were some things that he didn't know about Sanji, like anything that had happened to him before joining their crew. All Zoro knew was that Luffy had somehow managed to convince the shitty waiter to leave that restaurant-boat and sail with them instead. He could pity the poor bastard, also not sure exactly how he had ended up in this rag-tag group of pirates either; but there were still a few things a man would like to know about the person he called _nakama_. Damn Luffy for making him believe in that word again.

"Is there anything to eat?" First and foremost would still be his stomach, though.

"You'll have to wait. I'm making stew right now," Sanji answered, tossing his head toward the pot on the stove. Zoro frowned over at it in disappointment, hoping for something a little more substantial than damn _stew_. He was going to need some_ meat_ if he was going to become the strongest swordsman in the whole world; not some mix of leftovers and water left to boil together. He knew how much Sanji liked to save and use every possible shred of edible material, but a man got sick of the same leftovers after three days, no matter how Sanji dressed it up. Zoro had never once found himself able to complain about the taste of things though, better than any of the scraps he had picked up off the ground, dusted off, and ate happily when he had been living in harder times. He just hadn't had any other choice then, but he had gotten spoiled eating Sanji's cooking all the time. Perhaps if the guy didn't have such an attitude about it, it wouldn't have bothered Zoro so much; but for some reason the thought of shitty stew made him pissed off.

"Looks more like cigarettes," Zoro grumbled as he settled his chin down into his palms, resting his elbows on the table to glare at Sanji. He was supposed to be the cook, not the drug supplier. Besides, Sanji was the only one who smoked on this vessel. What if they were attacked? They were going to need his great strength then, and there was no way Zoro was going to be able to fight on an empty stomach. Sanji would be crying with regret then instead of glancing up to glare at him.

"I _was _going to offer to make some bread real quick, but you can forget it now. There won't be anything to eat until I finish rolling the rest of this bag," Sanji declared, cold and indifferent to anyone other than Nami. Just because that bitch had a nice rack, the cook turned into a whiny mess of a man, spouting out French in another vain attempt to impress their navigator. She didn't even care beyond the favors she could get out of the blonde. It was so pathetic that one couldn't help but pity the poor bastard. Especially when he couldn't notice that other people would make far better partners. Zoro wasn't able to accuse the cook of being dull, but when it came to certain things, the blonde truly was oblivious. Zoro frowned as Sanji began to drop more of the crumbling, dry leaves in a messy line on another paper.

"Are you even _old _enough to smoke cigarettes?" Zoro asked as Sanji began to roll a second one. He got another glare for that, but it was something that had been bothering him for a while. He didn't know Sanji's age, couldn't really assess it from that long body and jaded manner; along with the bizarrely childish side of him that rivaled Usopp and Luffy's. It was hard to think that a guy like Sanji actually had facial hair. Zoro couldn't help but feeling like he was sailing on the ocean with a bunch of kids, despite their fighting skills. He didn't really have anything against underage smoking, not about to stick his nose into anyone else's life...but it was a good question to ask. He had to know if Sanji was a minor or not, since Zoro did have a few morals. He didn't know the exact moment he had suddenly decided that he wanted to screw their ship's cook, but being stuck out in the endless blue sea with four other people and one reindeer was bound to make any man have strange thoughts. Homosexuality wasn't really an issue either, since Zoro didn't care whom he slept with whenever they finally docked at an island with _humanity_. After being stuck on the same ship with the _same _people and having no choice but to jerk off into the ocean, Zoro had surpassed horny and became near mindless with lust. There were some things that a man just had to do in order to stay sane, Zoro needing the stress relieve more than anything else. Fucking was always nicer than masturbating. Zoro liked the freedom of lying with a person for one night and setting sail the next morning, never having to see his or her face again. Having sex with a crewmember was a completely different matter. If things went bad, there was nowhere to go on a ship, but that reasoning had been sounding weaker and weaker lately. Zoro was definitely a pretty boy, even if he did have a kick that was just as destructive as Zoro's swords along with more than his fair share of arrogance. There were times when Zoro wondered if he hadn't mistaken the desire to punch the blonde a good one right in the face for love.

"I can smoke more than you, muscle-head," Sanji returned sharply, beginning to roll his new cigarette with a lot more aggression than was necessary. Zoro watched in amusement, waiting for the paper to rip. The man still hadn't answered his question, dancing around the subject with as much grace as an avalanche. Even if Sanji wasn't going to say his age, Zoro could still guess that the blonde was younger than he was.

"I've slept with more people than you can even dream of," Zoro shot right back, gaining the delight of seeing Sanji blush underneath the fringe of his bangs, his visible cheek turning a light rose as he blinked up at Zoro in shock. He was still so _young _if he was getting embarrassed over talk like this, despite chasing after Nami like a dog in heat. His thin goatee almost seemed ridiculous on such an attractive face, but it only added to the charm of this foul-mouthed cook.

"Wh-what does that have to do with anything, you shithead?!" Sanji stuttered, unable to meet Zoro's eyes for more than instant despite all attempts. "Making jokes like that..." he mumbled, finishing the second cigarette in a mechanical manner. Sanji's ears were turning red, his whole face beginning to flush like he was suddenly coming down with a fever. It was almost a shame that the guy colored this easily, his pale skin doing nothing to hide the blood rushing to Sanji's face. Zoro knew he had the advantage, able to switch the conversation around quicker than Sanji could keep up. He liked being in control.

"I bet you're still a virgin," Zoro whispered it, making his voice go to that low, sexy drawl he would usually use on the women. Men weren't typically impressed with such things, but it seemed to do the trick with Sanji as he dropped the misshapen cigarette from lifeless fingers. There was a moment's pause, nothing but the sound of the stew boiling on the stove as Sanji and Zoro stared at each other. And then, Sanji's bench went flying backward as the blonde shot out of his seat, stepping away from the table in a clear fighting stance.

"Try saying that again, fucker!" Sanji yelled, daring Zoro to taunt him one more time. That blush was completely gone, the blonde's face hardened with anger at his chastity being brought up so casually. Zoro didn't even get out of his seat, still too tired from his nap and this morning's training to want to fight right now. He just smiled at the irate blonde, ready to admit that he had probably pushed the brat too far. He just hadn't expected the cook to have such a temper, proving just what a child he was... one that looked very grown up in those black pants and heavy, studded belt. Zoro couldn't help but stare at the crotch that had become so conveniently eye-level before he even looked at the face above it.

"It's not anything to get upset about," Zoro tried to calm Sanji down, raising up an eyebrow of his own at the cook trembling in outrage. His shoulders were heaving with each breath, his delicate and scarred hands making fists at his sides, a little bit more of his neck showed, as the tie became looser. Zoro unconsciously tapped his nose with his finger as he studied the blonde that was turning homicidal in front of him. He decided that Sanji definitely looked his best when he was angry about something, becoming focused and somehow more mature, even if he was fighting. It was really his own fault for looking so good; that very uncommon and _perfect _golden hair color that was rare among blondes. Zoro had done girls with hair so light and pale it was nearly silver and dirty blondes that should really just give up and call themselves brunettes, but he had never found anyone with Sanji's particular shade before. He suddenly had the strangest desire to touch it, to feel that hair and finally know if it was just as soft as it looked.

"In fact, I could help you out," Zoro suggested, simply unable to resist the taunt. Sanji went red in the face all over again, but this time it wasn't from embarrassment. Zoro could taste the killing spirit in the air, realizing a moment too late that he had accidentally pissed Sanji off enough to make him serious.

"Like I need your fucking _help_!" Sanji's hissed words were all the warning Zoro got before one long leg snapped up and hit him in the shoulder like a gunshot. He was sent backward, flying straight out of his seat and against barrels stacked up against the wall. Zoro barely missed hitting the wind holder, but a bottle still fell down and shattered on the floor from the force of impact. Zoro threw an elbow out far too late, hauling himself up and reaching for.... Swords that weren't there. He had left them on deck like an idiot. Zoro tisked, already regretting starting a fight in such small quarters. If he was going to start trouble, he should come prepared next time. Thankfully, Zoro was no fool when it came to a regular brawl either. He knew that if Sanji dropped his hands down to the floor and was able to get into a good position to kick, Zoro wouldn't have a chance. Except right now, Sanji had his foot raised for a single blow, probably waiting for Zoro to rush in. If he was lucky, if he was fast enough, he might be able to avoid it. If not, he was probably going to wind up with a few broken bones. Zoro couldn't help but smiling, finally finding something to fight that would actually hold a challenge.

He moved, forward... eyes widening when he saw muscles move, could feel the air begin to push toward him as Sanji started his kick...was so in the moment that the cook might as well have been moving in slow motion. He sidestepped and was inside Sanji's guard before the blonde could knee him, quickly grabbing both wrists and pushing Sanji back until he could pin the man against the wall. He might as well have been holding a wet cat for how much Sanji fought at that point, cursing so loudly that it was a shock no one came to see what was going on. Zoro supposed that being on the same ship as Luffy would deaden the most sensitive of hearing, only able to grin as Sanji struggled against him. Zoro had to move in closer just to protect a very precious organ from Sanji's knees; not about to give Sanji the room he needed to get off a good kick. He could hold the cook's arms easily enough, however, not about to lose to anyone when it came to physical strength. And, besides, in terms of upper body, a swordsman had more muscle on a martial artist who only used his feet any day. He dragged Sanji's wrists together with a fight, not sure if the cook was just skinny or if his own hands were simply too big, but Zoro held Sanji's hands above his head with one arm. He rested the other one on his hip, grinning triumphantly at the blonde while his backside and shoulder began to ache. The shitty cook had more than enough bite to him.

"You son of a bitch!" Sanji snarled, spit hitting Zoro's cheeks now that he was so close to the blonde. That longer, thinner body was struggling against his own, one deadly leg trapped between both of Zoro's as he leaned his heavier weight on top of the cook. He could feel the bones in Sanji's wrists begin to grind together as the blonde still tried to struggle, absolutely livid with anger. He was rather breathtaking at the moment. Zoro couldn't resist the temptation any longer, putting one hand to the side of Sanji's cheek and brushing aside that hair that had hung over half of the cook's pretty face for too long. He was already leaning in for a kiss, his body instinctively moving in before his eyes registered what was underneath Sanji's bangs.

There was a light scar around his temple, puckered and silver-white skin about the size of an orange. It cut off the eyebrow before the hair could curl around to match the other one, but on the most past wasn't very terrible or horrible to look at. Zoro had far worse and much larger scars decorating his own body, too many to even count. But, that scar wasn't what was most shocking. Sanji's left eye was completely white, the pupil and iris bleached into a milky swirl that Zoro could barely distinguish. Sanji immediately went still while Zoro could only stare at the unexpected wound, wondering just where the hell the cook had managed to get something like that. Sanji couldn't even look him in the face, staring down at the floor and biting his lower lip in shame. Zoro felt like a jerk for peeking, dropping his hand away quickly and backing off. There was no fight in Sanji now as his hair fell down to hide his eye again, the blonde slapping a hand over it in embarrassment. It was somehow worse than seeing Sanji naked, than knowing his deepest secret. The wound was obviously extremely personal to the cook, and Zoro had just exposed it and looked on in horror.

"When...What...?" Zoro tried to form a question that wouldn't sound incredibly insensitive and failed. He took another step back, giving the cook more room as Sanji shuddered and dropped his head down in shame- because Zoro had just done whatever he wanted without asking. He gritted his teeth, shaking his head at the mark on that otherwise lovely face. Why did he have to just _look _instead of thinking a little bit first?

"When I was young, I met that shitty old fart on our ship. He beat me up and kicked me overboard into the middle of a storm," Sanji started in a tired voice, his shoulders hunching down lower with each word. Zoro stood back, wisely deciding to shut his mouth and listen. He had already proved himself to be enough of a bastard when he had brushed Sanji's hair aside. Of course the cook would have something to hide when he always wore his bangs down in front of that left eye. Zoro had just never known how serious it was. He frowned, wanting to ask if the 'shitty old fart' was that head cook with the ridiculously tall chef's hat back on the Baratie, but wasn't about to interrupt. Sanji would tell him everything that he wanted to. Zoro knew that if he were spilling his heart out to anyone, he wouldn't want them to suddenly interrupt him with a question or lame comfort like 'everything will be alright.'

"We were stranded on a rock for...for _weeks_. There was nothing there... Absolutely nothing," Sanji's voice took on a hollow sound, his good eye staring forward at nothing. The tall blonde's knees buckled, long legs folding as the cook slid down against the wall and hit the floor. His arms wrapped around his thighs, looking very young and very vulnerable as Sanji started to reminisce. Zoro doubted that he had told this story to anyone before, not even Luffy. That straw-hat moron seemed to understand them all, somehow able to make them admit everything. Such a strange captain to follow, Zoro not sure if Luffy was incredible dumb or unimaginably enlightened. He hadn't seen anyone as innocent as Luffy before. Everyone had committed some sort of sin in their lives. Zoro had become an evil Pirate Hunter with reason; killing many even as they screamed for mercy. He had managed to ignore their words, turning cold whenever someone cursed him with their final breath. It had been a long time since he had smiled and laughed like he had on this ship. And, it wasn't just Luffy. As much as he hated Nami, he loved her like a little sister. He also had a soft spot for younger women, always feeling the foolish need to protect them. Chopper was an aggravated version of that, so disgustingly cute with those wide eyes and large top hat. He bordered on stuffed-animal cute, always impressed whenever they docked at a new shore. Usopp was the same, nothing more than a country boy that had somehow got caught up in Luffy's quest to become the Pirate King. He was an incurable liar and coward, but was rather handy when it came to repairs. Usopp could even draw as well, impressing Zoro a few times with sketches he had done in permanent pens. He apparently ran out of pencils often, having to wait until they landed in a town with an art store for more.

Zoro knew all these stupid, useless details about his friends; and yet he didn't even know if Sanji had a hobby beyond cooking. This was the most he had ever heard of Sanji's past before, crossing his arms as he tried to recover from the shock of that colorless eye. He didn't quite understand what this story would have to do with it, but he was sure that Sanji would explain soon enough. If this had happened when he was 'young,' barely seeming out of his teens even now, Zoro couldn't imagine what it must have been like. They passed by the rocks Sanji was probably remembering, nothing but lava that had hardened up from volcanoes on the ocean floor. Nami had explained it to them before, that eventually dirt would collect, leading to soil for plants, then animals. It was hard to picture that all islands had once started as nothing more then foul-smelling, black waste...even worse to think that Sanji had been stuck on one as a child. It was one thing to starve when you had an ambition you had already sworn your life to; but Zoro doubted that Sanji had the same resolve. The hopelessness that Sanji must have felt was palpable, just looking at that defeated figure curled up on the floor at the mere memory of it.

"That wound got infected. I never got the protein for my body to heal, because we nearly ended up starving to death in that _hellhole_ before a ship came," Sanji's voice was somehow very calm even though this must be a horrible memory for him. Zoro tried to remember the days he had gone hungry, having no money or means to get meat. He had dug turnips up as he found them in the ground, nothing too low as long as he lived. Zoro wasn't the type of person to let his pride get in the way of survival. He _had _to become the greatest swordsman before he died, nothing else. To just be a kid, out in the middle of the unforgiving sea without any supplies. It was a miracle that a ship had passed by in the first place, considering how great East Blue was; and it was considered to be the weakest, smallest ocean of all. Zoro thought about looking out on all of the water flowing out until it met the horizon and knowing that he couldn't drink it. That the same water that was responsible for his death also might bring a ship that would save his life... It must have been horrible for anyone, adult or child.

"I'm...I'm blind in that eye," Sanji admitted at last, burying his face into his knees as his explanation finally seemed to come to an end. At least, the cook didn't seem like he was going to be able to talk any time soon. There weren't any tears, likely cried out a long time ago. Sanji had been dealing with this for years, after all. Zoro closed one eye, unable to help it. Immediately he was trying to look over the bridge of his nose, his blind spot suddenly growing beyond just his back. Zoro soon had a headache, opening his eye back up and rubbing at it in irritation. To never be able to open that eye and see clearly again... Zoro was overcome with a fear for _himself_, imagining such a blind spot, an appalling handicap in depth perception when he handled three swords. He doubted that he would be able to pull of any special techniques if he ever lost half his vision. He might as well loose an arm.

Zoro wasn't even sure how he could begin comforting someone for that.

He tentatively reached out, intending to put a hand on Sanji's shoulder. Now wasn't the time to be thinking with his dick, even if Sanji looked rather lovely right now. The suffering profile was just as nice as the angry one. He'd love to just hug and kiss everything better, but Sanji wasn't some woman he could charm with his reputation and...well, frankly, God-given good looks. Zoro knew he had a handsome face, unlike Sanji. The blonde should know better than to think that a scar that didn't even cover much of his face would be a turn-off. Zoro had scars wider than his hand and longer than his katana running up, down, across, horizontal, and _around _his body. If anyone should consider themselves horribly disfigured, it should be Zoro. He hoped that would be enough to understand Sanji's feelings, to at least get him off of the floor.

"Don't fucking _touch _me! I'll gut you like a damn fish," Sanji threatened, slapping his wrist away before Zoro could even come in contact with him. His mouth dropped open, not expecting to be so harshly rejected when he was doing his best to be nice to the little brat. Instead of saying 'thank you,' the blonde slapped both palms down on the ground and was beginning to propel his body up to get into position for a kick. The only difference was that Zoro was expecting it this time. Sanji finally got a taste of his own medicine when he slammed his knee into the conveniently exposed stomach as the cook hesitated one fatal moment in rising up to his usual handstand. Sanji fell down straight onto that stubborn head of his, his body slumping over and hitting the floor in short order.

"I was trying to be nice, shitty Love-Cook," Zoro snapped down at the motionless body at his feet. He could almost regret at the sight of those long legs and arms sprawled out limply, the waist tapering in like any woman's. Sanji just had the sort of body that demanded one's full attention. It was almost painful to stay on the same ship as the cook and not say anything day after day. How was he supposed to just sit there and pretend like he didn't have very, very _vivid _dreams whenever they had been out at sea for too long? Zoro couldn't wait for another stranger in the next town when he had a living wet dream unconscious in front of him. Zoro glanced back at the door, wondering if their fight had brought any attention yet. He shouldn't be calculating how much time he could possibly have alone with Sanji... he still hadn't even figured out the blonde's real age yet! Damn if he didn't care either at this point.

"You broke my fucking rib!" Was the surprising curse Sanji growled out, curling up around his side. Zoro crossed his arms, a little bit taken back at that. He wasn't sure if it was because Sanji was still able to insult him or if it was because the cook had managed to stay conscious after taking a kick from him. Zoro may not have the same kind of skill as Sanji when it came to using his feet, but he was no weakling either. Even still, there was no way he could have possibly broken a bone. Sanji was made of tougher stuff than that. Zoro knew it rather well from his own experience, not quite able to come away with a clear win whenever he got into a fight with Sanji.

"I didn't get you _that_ hard," Zoro argued, his voice sounding weak to his own ears. He _hadn't_! Sanji was just trying to make him feel guilty or such. The bastard had to be faking this; that had to be the case. Because Zoro didn't want to start thinking about how guilty _he _would feel if he had accidentally managed to hurt the cook.

"You did!" Sanji whined out, surprisingly vocal about his injuries when they weren't in the middle of a real life-or-death fight.

Zoro grabbed Sanji by the wrist, roughly hauling him up from the floor and into a standing position...well, at least the best Sanji could do when he was hunched over like an old woman. As was to be expected, there was an immediately a struggle that ended up in Zoro getting fingernails raked down the side of his face in an accidental collision with a loose hand that wasn't even making a fist. Even still, getting hit in the face was something that Zoro didn't easily stand for. He got a better grip on Sanji's arm and got it twisted around behind the shitty cook's back, slamming the blonde face-first into the table by the mess he had made with those damn cigarettes.

"I'll _really_ hurt you if keep trying to hit me!" Zoro promised, shoving all his weight onto the captured limb and grinning in satisfaction when he felt bones grind together. Sanji winced and made a painful noise with his breathing, attempting one final time to throw Zoro off before there was a warning creak. Zoro really _would _break a bone if Sanji kept this up. The message finally seemed to get through, because the blonde slowly let the tension drain out even though he obviously hated it. He backed off as well, not fool enough to actually let Sanji go quite yet as he kept a firm grip on the cook's wrist.

Silence. Angry, sullen silence that promised unimaginable violence whenever Zoro eased up. Sanji's golden locks were hiding whatever murderous look Sanji might be making right now, his Adam's Apple bobbing as the cook swallowed. It was probably killing him to not fight back right now, but Sanji didn't have a choice when he was being pinned to the table by the legendary Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. Zoro paused at that, actually realizing their positions as he ground a hip into Sanji's ass, unaware that he was touching the man so much. It felt awkward now that they weren't fighting, too close to what Zoro had pictured before. His dreams certainly hadn't included the galley's table, but Sanji was being bent over something, so that was good enough for him. The only trick was to get Sanji to want this too. It was like the stupid bastard didn't think about sex beyond Nami-and the innumerable number of pretty ladies Sanji had attempted to swoon and fail. He had no idea that Zoro thought about him at night, wondering how Sanji would feel from the inside. He had a few men before, but none of them had been as pretty as Sanji. He was all legs, ones to be jealous of no matter what sex you were. He had a handsome face and he knew it...at least on one side. Zoro brushed the hair aside, exposing that scar. It was almost like he couldn't get enough of it, fascinated by the way Sanji's eyes had turned completely white, the strange pattern that the skin had healed in.

"Don't look at me, damn it!" Sanji screamed it hoarsely, trying to twist his neck around at an impossible angle so he could see what was going on. He truly was blind in that eye, Zoro blinking as the shock really settled in. He wasn't quite sure what he was thinking- or if he was thinking at _all_- but Zoro leaned forward over Sanji's back and placed his lips on that scar. He kissed it while the blonde shuddered and went completely still for the first time since he had walked in the galley. The skin was rough and hard like a callous, but Sanji was very warm, and very, _very _nice to look at in spite of his arguing and cursing.

"Zoro, what-...?" Sanji tried to ask a question, but the sound of his name in that deep smoker's voice made his pants become too tight. If Zoro had any confusion about his feelings, they were now completely cleared up. He really did want to screw Sanji into the table; and damn the consequences. He should have just kept his mouth shut instead of trying to argue with that voice that didn't quite match the pretty face. Zoro let go of Sanji's arm, but this time it was to grab the man by the shoulder and jaw, forcing the cook up for a proper kiss. Well, it was more of lips being smashed together; Sanji's teeth clenched shut as he tried to twist away from the unwanted affection. He ended up completely on his back; their stomachs pressed together as Zoro forced himself between the cook's legs. He may be stupid enough to just go for it with Sanji, but he wasn't about to allow the man a chance to kick him again.

Sanji was reduced to struggling sounds underneath him, opening his mouth and unintentionally letting Zoro in. He prided himself on knowing how to kiss, leaving many women gasping or outright fainting afterward. Zoro let his tongue explore this velvet inside of Sanji's mouth which, big fucking surprise, tasted like cigarettes. He had never had been particularly fond of the things, but on Sanji it just seemed ridiculously sexy. The man himself was no longer fighting as much, he hadn't even tried to bite Zoro's tongue. All it took was licking the roof of Sanji's mouth to have the cook responding at last, his own tongue meeting Zoro's and a hand sliding through his own short hair until it rested on the back of Zoro's neck. He took that as a signal to go; finally, letting Sanji loose and immediately undoing his tie without even breaking the kiss. He had the piece off cloth sliding out from Sanji's collar and across the room in no time, popping a few buttons to expose more of the cook. He didn't undo the shirt all the way, wanting to take his time and enjoy this. If Luffy and the others hadn't come in to check on Sanji's earlier yell, they certainly wouldn't now. He wouldn't be too concerned if the rest of the crew saw this anyway, not about to give up this opportunity to make the rotten bastard scream his name aloud. Zoro broke the kiss to start licking and sucking a messy line from chin to ear, noticing how the cook shivered when he continued the same treatment on his scar.

"I'll be gentle," Zoro whispered against Sanji's neck, pressing his lips against the skin afterward. Sanji somehow managed to taste like sugar... in fact, there was a dusting of sweet stuff across his tongue now as Zoro realized the cook must have spilled something while at work. It was so bizarrely fitting that Zoro had a hard time not laughing aloud. He wondered if Nami's aversion to their love cook would change if she knew he tasted sweet on top of being so hopelessly enamored with her. Well, Zoro was officially there first, determined to make Sanji completely forget about the greedy bitch, because he just might want to do this again.

"I'd _hate_ to ruin your little fantasy here, but I'm not a virgin," Sanji sighed out in tired irritation, his hand moving to shove at Zoro's face. He wondered for a moment if the blonde might be lying just to get him to back off, but his relaxed body language and dull gaze told Zoro that he wasn't. Sanji tossed his hair back lazily, unimpressed even though he had been very responsive only moments ago. The cook's turn-off was obviously being coddled. He didn't know what to say, a little horrified that Sanji had managed to hit so close to the mark with that 'fantasy' comment, more than disappointed that he _wasn't _the first. Zoro had just assumed when he saw the suave cook turn into a squealing twelve-year-old boy with a crush on their navigator. Zoro tried to imagine the kind of woman that could ever honestly consider sleeping with the painfully eager love cook...'Woman.' Zoro grinned, finding hope yet. He could still very well be Sanji's first male lover. Either way, it was important to make a lasting impression.

"Discouraged?" Sanji asked when Zoro kept silent for too long, all of this thinking diverting his attention. The blonde was looking over to the side at the few cigarettes he had managed to finished, as if he wanted to smoke right now because he was so bored. Sanji didn't even know what he was provoking.

"Hardly," Zoro answered quickly, not about to lose in an exchange of wits between him and the fucking _cook_. With that said, Zoro quickly resumed his attack on Sanji's mouth, finding the shirt once again with his hand and undoing every single button before starting on the belt as well. Sanji was surprisingly complaint, kicking off his own shoes and wriggling his hips out of the pants to help speed up the process. Soon the cook was mostly naked; the shirt still caught around his arms with a hand locked around the back of Zoro's neck. He wasn't sure if he was pinning Sanji down, or if the cook was keeping him from backing up. It was the first time Zoro had ever had sex with someone who could just as easily beat him up right now, since Zoro had come in unarmed. Zoro gave up trying to understand why he found that so exciting, sucking on an earlobe while Sanji made encouraging sounds.

He let his hand wander from throat down to Sanji's chest, nice and smooth skin stretched over more bones then muscle. There were entertaining divots in Sanji's chest from his ribcage before Zoro finally ran his thumb over one nipple. He felt skin begin to tighten at the contact before he pinched it, causing Sanji to jerk so deliciously that Zoro had to do it again. He was so entranced by it that he didn't even notice a foreign hand touching the front of his pants before cupping his dick through the fabric with enough force to make Zoro's vision tinge gray. He coughed and would have fallen on top of the cook if he hadn't caught himself with one elbow on the table. He glared at Sanji, who had a sly grin on his face as he looked triumphantly up at Zoro with his good eye.

"Are you going to keep _your_ clothes on?" Sanji asked, easing up the pressure to lightly knead his balls. If he hadn't had an erection before, Zoro was definitely hard now. It still wasn't very relieving, more like a lingering threat as he was slowly allowed to back up to remove his clothing. Sanji remained sprawled out on the table like the shirt falling off his arms was pure gold, smirking at him in a smug manner that could give Nami a run for her money. Zoro had his waistband and shirt off so fast that he might have heard seams popping. He starting undoing his pants, belatedly realizing that he didn't have any lube or condoms... It wasn't like he had walked in here expecting to screw the cook. Zoro glanced around the place frantically, his eyes falling on the mess Sanji had left behind after whatever he had been cooking, to the butter sitting on a plate. He kissed Sanji one more time on the mouth to make sure that he didn't lose the mood before awkwardly reaching over the cook for the spread.

"You can't use _that!_" Sanji snapped in an offended way when Zoro just put his fingers into the stick of butter and clawed away a good-sized chunk. He sighed, letting his shoulders drop in disappointment. Couldn't Sanji at _least_ recognize the fact that he was damn well trying?

"You want me to just do it dry?" Zoro snapped testily, wanting Sanji to tell him just what else they could do.

There was a light in Sanji's gaze that wasn't quite sane.

It wasn't fear of Zoro's threat since Sanji could knee him in a particularly sensitive spot right now, but the personal knowledge of just how painful that could be. Zoro blinked, regretting saying anything at the panicked expression that had come over his face. There was nothing but the usual rocking of the boat making them press together, Sanji's fingers scratching on the surface of the table as he suddenly tried to get away from Zoro.

"You _wouldn't_," Sanji hissed, muscles tensing up as the blonde obviously got ready to fight, naked or not. Zoro knew the safest thing to do was give Sanji some space, even if it meant letting the cook have enough room to attack. Mood: completely fucking blown to hell. It was hard to be romantic with someone who was so obviously terrified of him- and it was Zoro's own fault for being an ass. In his defense, how was he supposed to know that Sanji would take that joke so honestly? There was no possible way that Zoro would actually consider doing that to the tough but thin and delicate-looking blonde, no fucking _way _he could treat a lover with such disrespect. Zoro might have slept around, but he had at no time taken someone against his or her will, or forced them to do anything they didn't want to do. Surely he could be given a little fucking bit of credit for being a friend!

"No, I wouldn't," he promised, sensing that Sanji needed to hear that even after he had been so bitchy about Zoro swearing to be gentle earlier, "...but this is the best thing I've got," Zoro held up the butter in apology. The cook sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, looking at the grease starting to melt in his hand, and let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like open sobbing to Zoro. The cook sagged back onto his elbows in relief, a shudder running down from his shoulders to his toes. Zoro drooped down as well, figuring that he should probably just do his pants up and find a towel to clean his hand off with. Things were going to be pretty damn awkward now with one failed attempt at sex between them. He cursed under his breath, starting to back away before Sanji noticed the movement. Zoro suddenly had two long legs wrapped around his sides, trapping him there. An arm was hooked around his shoulders and Sanji was suddenly close enough for their noses to brush together.

"Just do it," Sanji whispered, a blush beginning to come to life on the man's cheeks. Zoro couldn't look down to confirm it, but he was pretty sure that Sanji had an erection of his own digging into Zoro's stomach.

"Are-..." Zoro started, uncertain if this was reality or not.

"Just _do _it!" Sanji snapped out, grabbing Zoro's wrist roughly and yanking his hand down to what had been his flagging erection. Zoro caught the hint, stroking himself a few times to coat his dick and get himself nice and hard for Sanji. The cook just leaned forward to begin nip and sucking on Zoro's collarbone, lips so soft and teeth grazing across the skin. He used the leftover to smear around Sanji's rear, not hesitating to stick one finger inside. Sanji was impossibly tight, even if he had given his consent. Zoro was glad he _hadn't _tried this without any lubrication- he was likely to tear skin off his own penis. Sanji grunted and his legs relaxed around Zoro; the blonde's lip curled up in discomfort as he attempted to make it easier. Even if the cook was concentrating on it, there were some muscles that just wouldn't relax on cue. It took several moments for just one finger to finally be able to slide in and out. Another was added and Sanji was having a hard time controlling his breathing, eyes clenched shut and teeth grinding together. Zoro bent down, finding one of the perky pink nipples and taking it in his mouth to help distract the man from it. That seemed to work well enough, because Sanji started moaning aloud in what could only be pleasure. Zoro choked at the tightening sensation that shot right through his groin, wondering how such a simple noise could arouse him so much. He couldn't wait any longer, pulling out his fingers to replace them with something much larger. He placed the head of his erection against Sanji's asshole, hands clutching and spreading the cook's buttocks. Sanji had just enough time to gasp and throw his other hand on Zoro's shoulder before he was lifted all the way up off the table. Sanji turned out to be even lighter than he had suspected, an easy weight against his chest and on his palms. It wasn't even a workout to slowly lower the man onto his dick.

Zoro tried, _really _tried to take it slow for Sanji, but the cook still winced and made muffled, whimpering noises as he obviously tried not to cry aloud in pain. It was a struggle the whole way in, a tight ring of resistance that made Zoro see stars...and then nothing but yielding, heated organs inside. It was like driving up into a piece of heaven, Sanji gripping his shoulders for dear life. Fingernails were digging into his back; sure to leave marks, but Zoro hardly even felt it. Every sense he had was being directed to his groin, to every inch of how deep he went inside the man. Sanji groaned and twisted, but he had nothing supporting him beyond Zoro. His cheeks were starting to turn a deep red and a sweat was breaking out all over the man's body, his good eye unfocused with pleasure. Zoro could feel the cook's insides shifting around his throbbing cock, adjusting until it was a perfect fit. He so malleable and warm inside that Zoro could hardly believe the same man cursed enough to cover everyone else on the ship's share. It was mind-blowing to simply stand there, but he lowered Sanji onto the table again so that the cook's back was up against something solid.

Now that the blonde was thoroughly loosened up, Zoro could drive in at the speed he wanted. He spread Sanji's legs, pulling out and thrusting back in a wavelike motion. The blonde cried out at that, putting one finger into his mouth and biting down on it while his other hand slipped in between them. Zoro began to move back and forth inside Sanji, the cook's ass making a powerful suction that Zoro couldn't get away from. He had to keep pumping his hips forward, balls slapping up against smooth skin while Sanji jerked himself off. A bowl fell off the table, followed by something else that made a breaking noise upon impact with the floor. Zoro paid it no mind, preferring to listen to Sanji pant and groan in time to his own thrusts. He threw one hand down on the table to brace himself while his other lifted up Sanji's knee, finding the right angle to drive home in.

Sanji came first, physically forcing Zoro to come not soon after when his ass clenched around his dick. He had been planning to hold out for a little bit longer, but there was no choice when Sanji made a mangled, half-scream of pleasure at the end of it. Zoro lost all control of his body, all thought gone. He fell down heavily, buried his face into the curve of Sanji's shoulder, and just breathed for a while.

He became aware of things in a strange order. He was tired as all hell, his knees starting to shake with exertion. His sweat had cooled, but it was still wet and sticky on his skin. It was rather warm in the kitchen area, beginning to smell like stew and sex. Sanji was still trapped beneath his wider body, making an excellent pillow for him. There was something rather gooey between their stomachs, the awkward mound of Sanji's penis pressing below Zoro's bellybutton. His cock was still inside the man, even though he had gone flaccid long ago. He really had just made love to Sanji, like he had wanted to for weeks..._months_. Zoro was happy, more satisfied then if he had just won a particularly troublesome duel. That wasn't so far from the truth, not with how hard Zoro had to work at getting Sanji to go through with it at all. He backed away, relishing the feeling of sliding out from the blonde and standing back to survey his handiwork.

Sanji laid there in contented oblivion, legs dangling loosely over the table and his heart visibly beating in his chest. His eyes weren't even open, and Zoro couldn't tell if the cook was unconscious or not. Smirking in satisfaction, Zoro looked around to find his discarded shirt. Frowning at the waste but not seeing anything else in sight, Zoro used the clothing to wipe off the grease remaining on his hand and the cooling mess covering his groin. He dropped the shirt back to the wooden deck afterward, doing up the front of his pants before stretching out. His back popped, any tension or anxiety his body might have been holding completely gone. Sanji had definitely been everything Zoro had hoped for, that blonde head beginning to move as the man seemed to come back to himself.

"Shit, I need a cigarette," Sanji announced softly, the shirt being pulled up onto his shoulders as the blonde sat up with great effort. He leaned over, picking up one of the white sticks and put it in his mouth, slightly swollen from Zoro kissing too hard. Sanji was absolutely stunning with his usually smooth blonde hair ruffled, various pink marks coming in on the blonde's flesh that would likely last a few days. Zoro lost a bit of his contentment when he noticed Sanji's hands were shaking as the cook lifted the cigarette up to his mouth and lit it up. The blonde was avoiding his gaze so obviously that it was painful, his feet swinging loosely off the side of the table like a child that didn't know where he belonged.

"So, do you want to talk about it?" Zoro finally had to breach the subject of Sanji's minor panic. No one should have that sort of reaction to such a ridiculous suggestion. The thought of someone hurting Sanji in such a manner made Zoro want to go grab his swords and teach the bastard a lesson. He was sure that the cook could do it himself, but Zoro was suddenly _very _protective of the blonde. One tended to do so after screwing.

"No."

Quick, one syllable answer that somehow managed to say so much. Whatever had happened, it had hurt. Sanji had a hard enough time dealing with it himself, and wasn't about to share it with anyone. Zoro wondered if the blonde had actually had a lover before, someone who had actually respected him. Sanji couldn't even look him in the face, cigarette lazily burning at the corner of his mouth, forgotten. The blonde was turning something over in his head, and all Zoro could do was wait for it. He stayed silent, listening to the usual melody of the life at sea: the waves hitting the hull, the wood creaking as it was pushed around, seagulls squawking in their always-irritating manner outside... Sanji finally taking a large hit off his cigarette and blowing it out in small circles, one after another. Zoro watched as they slowly lost shape, spreading out and disappearing into the air. Sanji silently finished off the cigarette and put it out in the ashtray, wincing at whatever pains his body might have after Zoro had his way with him.

"Will you just... stay a while longer?" Sanji's voice was unusually small, hands clasped over his groin in a bit of delayed modesty. Zoro knew it took a lot for someone as proud as Sanji to ask for such. He was just the same, not about to admit that he would actually need someone else's help- or that he was scared to be alone. Sanji was obviously afraid that Zoro would just fuck him and leave, able to guess that someone had done the same before. Sanji was so utterly fragile right now, shoulders trembling even though there wasn't the slightest hint of emotion on his face. Zoro stepped in, planting a quick kiss on top of Sanji's head before wrapping his arms around the blonde. Sanji shuddered before he relaxed, leaning forward until his face rested against Zoro's chest. There were no real tears, but there was also no doubt that he was crying.

---

Usopp and Nami both slid away from the portcullis in the gallery door, putting their backs up against the wall on either side of the doorway and staring forward in mute shock. Chopper was completely oblivious above their heads, and Luffy was still on top of the figurehead, though he had stopped singing. The fighting had drawn Usopp at first, along with a desire to ask Zoro just who the hell he thought he was to knock the great Captain Usopp unconscious- _again!_

But, every good captain checked out the situation first, nervously peeking through the window to make sure that the two of them weren't killing each other, nothing more. There was no way he could stop their cook and swordsman from fighting if they had started going at it like usual. He hadn't been expecting to see Zoro pinning the blonde down...and then proceeding to strip him naked. He mind froze, his knees started shaking, and his hands were pressed up against the wall in utter horror. They weren't fighting, they were kissing.

He saw tongue.

Nami finally had to come look when Usopp choked and stammered in front of the door. She glanced through without asking Usopp anything, leaned back with her mouth open to ask a question before blinking and throwing herself up to portcullis as well. Now they both regretted watching in the first place, Nami's usually calculating eyes gone wide and blank. Usopp couldn't even speak, trying to mouth out something coherent and failing every time. Zoro had been _kissing _Sanji! Kissed him and had _sex _with him! He had seen a lot of crazy things on this ship, especially when two of the crewmembers had eaten a Devil's Fruit... and the other two human were so ridiculously strong that they couldn't really be considered human.

"Did they-..." Usopp couldn't even say it, glancing over at Nami to see the same horror reflected back at him.

"I think so," Nami answered back, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What's goin' on?" Luffy asked, unexpectedly close. They both yelped in surprise, neither of them noticing when the future Pirate King had approached. Usopp and Nami immediately turned around to one another, shushing the other in case the newly formed couple inside found out they were being spied on. Luffy tilted his head to the side, a questioning look on his face at their behavior. Nami wisely grabbed the straw-hat dork by the elbow and pulled him away from the quarterdeck. The three of them went down the stairs and onto the main deck before conversation was resumed.

"Luffy, Zoro and Sanji just _did_ it!" Nami hissed out, shaking Luffy's arm for measure. He made a confused noise, glancing back and forth between Usopp and Nami several times before crossing his arms and frowning.

"Did what?"

Luffy was nothing if not simple. Nami cried out in wordless frustration, her patience for explaining things long since run out. Usopp couldn't blame her with a crew like this, Luffy the worst of all. Nami turned her back to them, muttering under her breath dark, horrible things that Usopp was glad he didn't hear most of. He decided he should try to explain it himself, knowing that their captain should know before any trouble was started. If Zoro and Sanji got truly pissed off at each other, Luffy was probably the only man alive who could stop them.

"You know, they-..." Usopp started off before being interrupted by the completely blank and uncomprehending expression on Luffy's face. Blank, black eyes blinking as he waited for Usopp's clarification, slowly realizing that he would probably have to use explicit language. Of _course_ their captain didn't know, practically needing a diagram drawn out for him before Usopp would be able to get the point across.

"They had sex, you idiot!" Nami finally screeched out, stomping a bare foot on the deck in irritation. Luffy let out a loud note of understanding, nodding his head at last as if he really understood what was going on. Usopp wasn't so sure while Nami just crossed her arms under her breasts; nicely sized mounds of flesh unconsciously pushed up. Usopp quickly tore his gaze away, not about to think about things that would never happen. Besides, Kaya was more of a lady than Nami could ever dream of being, a hopeless thief to the very end. Kaya was sweet and gentle, while Nami had given him bruises the size of her fist and lied worse than him when it came down to it. Usopp was just trying to make everyone laugh during the otherwise dull days at sea. Today was a different case, especially after Zoro and Sanji had just decided to make love instead of fight. It didn't make any sense.

"Really? Damn it, I wanted to do it with Zoro," Luffy said in the same exact way he might talk about getting chicken instead of his favorite pork for dinner, a hand slapping down on top of his straw hat as he frowned at the two of them. Usopp's jaw dropped so hard that it hurt, wondering how Luffy could be so carefree about it. In fact, he was freely admitting he was gay too. Usopp hadn't even expected Luffy to realize what it would mean to have sex, and here he was frowning over the lost opportunity to make-out with the former Pirate Hunter. That was it. They were all crazy. That was the only answer.

"Why am I on this ship?" Nami asked herself, pressing her fingers into her temples as if to fight off the impending headache. Usopp wanted to join her.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I went to a pirate movie last night and I would have invited you, but it was rated '_ARRRRRR_.'

...And there's still MORE bad pirate jokes to tell.

I call my ukes like I see them, and _boy _does Sanji fit the picture. Smoking badass blondes with attitude...I'm sensing a theme in anime. It was so hard to avoid writing 'Sanzo' instead of 'Sanji.' This is mostly fun loving, perverted humor, but for some reason it's physically impossible for me to write fluff. I rewatched the first few episodes of One Piece and realized...Zoro kicks more ass than Bruce Lee and Jet Li's love child. Come on, he's Mugen (...don't tell me you haven't watched Samurai Champloo yet?)!

CREDITS

Cutelikabu for beta-ing and inspiring gift art

Iie Nome for musing and beta-ing.


	2. Love's just frosting anyways

Disclaimer: All characters and constitutional amendments based on religious beliefs belong to Eiichiro Oda and other producing companies, etc, etc...

Sanji sighed as he let out a small chain of smoke rings into the slightly chill air. When it became nighttime, it was almost impossible to tell the sea apart from the sky, that safe line blurring far off in the distance. Even though they were plenty of stars overhead and a moon so fat and bright Sanji thought it might fall right down onto the ship. It was finally quiet on the ship, because it was dark and everyone else tended to sleep. He would have been in his hammock too, if he didn't know that there was someone already in it. Sanji slumped further down on the railing; the cold evening wind barely felt through his loose shirt and pants. He hadn't felt like taking the time to dress, not when he had woken up on top of Zoro. Sanji had been more concerned about getting the hell out of there.

Instead of the usual webbing of his hammock, he had woken up on top of something that was much more solid… Zoro, one thick arm tossed over Sanji's back and the other dangling limply over the side of the gently swaying bedding. Sanji still couldn't believe it, unable to take it all in, as the green-haired just continued on snoring loudly. Zoro seemed so comfortable that Sanji had been half tempted to fall right back asleep… until he remember who this was. What they had done together. That he had somehow come to be mostly naked except for the open shirt still hanging onto his arms and a blanket thrown over bare legs. Zoro only had his pants on, a tanned and scarred chest rising up and down with each breath. The former pirate hunter was so thick with muscle that it was like sleeping on the floor, one that was slightly yielding and very, very warm. Sanji hadn't even been able to comprehend the situation himself, thanking every God he knew of that Zoro was such a heavy sleeper, allowing him the grace of crawling away to pull on pants and escape out the door.

Now, after smoking up most of this afternoon's hard work, Sanji was left with very few cigarettes and bruised pride. Hell, Sanji might as well cut off his legs and arms for how useless he felt right now. It was hard to just stay standing. He wasn't like this. He didn't have feelings for Zoro; the simple facts of their gender being enough. Sanji wasn't gay. He loved Nami, loved how she dressed and did her hair, how she smelled; she was the embodiment of a female on a crew that was mostly full of men. Sanji didn't know if he could count Chopper in, not since their doctor was actually a reindeer, but because he was nearly as big of coward as Usopp was. It was frustrating to deal with, nobody to talk to since he knew that sooner or later anything he said would just get back around to one of the crewmates. He wasn't so sure if he wanted to be here any more. Something in his heart told him that Luffy was the best chance he had at finding All Blue. It made sense that the man who would be Pirate King would stumble across the greatest ocean in the whole world eventually. Sanji was counting on it, since it was the only dream he still hung on to. He wasn't a stupid kid who foolishly entertained unattainable dreams.

So, just where did Zoro get off asking him how old he was? As if knowing would suddenly change everything between them. Why would it have to matter now, when they had been traveling together for so long already? Besides, it wasn't like Sanji even knew the answer himself. An orphan who never knew his parents didn't have the chance to discover his birthday either. He'd been working in the kitchens for as long as he could remember, first simply as a way to earn a place to sleep at night. Orphanages were something to scare good children who had families with. They were certainly no place to grow up. Sanji had been better off on one of the huge cruise ships, not knowing where they were headed or even the name of the port that they had left, just that there were over a hundred servings that needed to be prepared for dinner; and even better, if nobody complained, he'd be able to sleep in the pantry on top of the flour bags. Sanji's childhood had been a blurry mess of survival, at least until he had met Zeff. That shitty old man had taught him how to be a _chef_, an actual expert of his profession. Sanji was a better cook before he hit puberty than most of the useless bastards Zeff had hired could ever hope of being. It hadn't been easy to work in a busy kitchen when he was shorter than everyone else, either hated or resented by the crew for his skill and the way Zeff favored him. But, nobody had ever been able to argue with his cooking. There was no denying that he could make anything delicious. He lived his life by it, not about to waste a single scrap of food while on a ship. He still lived in constant paranoia of them being caught in a storm and being shipwrecked. He knew the pain of starving to death more than anyone, and he still woke up at night clutching his stomach in pain when the nightmares got too real. He had just been a kid and it had stuck with him for the rest of his life.

As well as a few others…

Sanji bit his lower lip, sucking down what was left of cigarette before tossing it over the railing into the dark night ocean. The waves covered it up immediately, but Sanji just kept on staring down at the spot where it had disappeared, crossing his arms and lowering his chin down on the little pillow in pure misery. Zoro was probably laughing at him right now, telling Usopp that their cook had been sobbing and screaming like a teenaged girl when he took him. Sanji had been carefully avoiding the rest of the crew just for that reason; not sure if they really _had_ been talking about him but unable to face anyone if that was the case. He really should just follow that cigarette overboard.

"Sanji," came a nice, polite greeting behind his back. He hadn't been expecting it, swirling around with a yelp of surprise. Robin just raised one thin eyebrow at him, the slight sea breeze not ruffling so much as a hair on the woman. She had the kind of face that went beyond beauty and into classic elegance; good skin, fine bone structure. Sanji felt like he was falling in love all over again with her. She didn't simply have a physical beauty, but her style was excellent as well. He appreciated a woman who could wear a midriff well, and Robin did so to a t. A smooth, flat expanse of stomach was shown underneath her top before the large leather belt and pants cut it off, making Sanji frown as he realized he was looking her up and down. He couldn't help it. He like things that were pretty, couldn't help but stare when the finer sex walked by, and _God did_ he love the color green. Sanji blinked at that, not even sure of where his thoughts were going himself until they were already out there; staring at Robin in horror as he realized he didn't think that she was quite as gorgeous as before. Why did Zoro have to be such a bastard, so unapproachable? Anything he might have tried to say dried up in his throat before he could even voice it, freezing up like a rabbit being hunted. He hadn't ever once thought of Zoro for his looks, and now it was all he could do to forget how handsome the swordsman had been.

"Sanji, are you okay?" Robin finally asked, showing a rare amount of concern. He could only nod and answer, because he didn't trust himself to speak. She would probably be able to tell how upset he was by looking, doing his best not to shake.

"Did something happen between you and Zoro?" Robin asked in her usual cool and controlled voice. For some reason, something inside Sanji just snapped, his usual haze of love fiercely pierced by that comment. He suddenly hated her.

"No, _fuck_, why are you even asking? What did you hear?" Sanji demanded, furious at the question, at everything it implied.

"I don't _listen _to anyone but Luffy," Robin returned without any heat in her voice, just clearly stating that the only person worth her time on the ship would always be the captain. He supposed that was the same for all of them. Luffy was just special, had managed to touch him in the same way as the rest of the crew; deeply, personally. Everyone else may simply see an oblivious idiot on the outside, but Luffy was more than that. Sanji couldn't put it into words, and he doubted if even Robin could as well. He returned to looking out over the sea, for some reason unable to look her in the face.

"But, I did see Zoro practicing even _more _than usual this afternoon, and you're standing out here at three in the morning," she explained in a uncommon excess of words, shaking back her short hair to look down at him. Sanji shook his head, thinking himself the only insomniac on the ship. He had obviously been wrong. He almost didn't know if he should be offended or not. Zoro had already put him on edge, not quite sure what was honest or just simple sarcasm. The man seemed to be able to throw his whole perception off, feeling faintly sick as Robin joined him to stare out at the sea. He hated her proximity, her sweet perfume drifting over. It wasn't anything like Zoro.

"What are you doing awake anyway, Robin-chan?" Sanji almost wanted to take the question back as soon as it left his mouth, his voice sounding so harsh against his own ears. Robin only smiled at it, her expression so much more knowing. Why did she have to look so damn elegant while she sneered down her nose at him?

"Don't you find it hard to sleep sometimes, Sanji?" Robin asked, using his name like a weapon. He flinched and went right back around to staring down at the sea, settling down with his shoulders hunched over angrily. He wasn't going to let her get to him; he was above it all. He was known as the cool one, suave and gentlemanly until the end. The only problem was that very little of that mattered to Zoro, who would probably kick his ass as soon as fuck it. Sanji was overwhelmed by the desire to die, a cold, trembling pressure on his chest and arms. Zoro would probably laugh at him for being scared in the first place, downright frightened of so many things that he would never tell a soul of. He had a reputation to keep, after all.

"What would you know about it?" Sanji snapped back, not about to have anyone feel sympathetic with him. He was on the defensive and didn't care. He made more than ample reason. Zoro hadn't said a single word to him; even though it was because of no small effort on his part to stay out of the man's sight. Sanji wasn't even sure how he was going to speak with Zoro after this, never having to face anyone after the act was done. No matter what he did, he would eventually run into Zoro again. Sanji just wished he could take it all back, so miserable that he almost didn't catch what Robin said next.

"I spent a long time with Crocodile. I know what it's like to dream at night," she answered back with an icy smile. Sanji swallowed, realizing that of_ course_ Robin would know what it would be like to have all choice taken away, to scream 'no' and have nobody listen. Why did he have to start remembering it tonight? Why did he have to feel weak and vulnerable? For some reason, knowing that Robin had been through the same didn't assure him as much as he thought it would. In fact, it made him quite miserable. He was ashamed for feeling bad in the first place, trying to duck his head into his arms again. He couldn't face her when he felt like complete and utter shit, the same paralyzing fear coming over without reason or rhyme. He could usually ignore it, burying it back in the furthest corner of his mind until he forgot all about it. Of course, that had been until Zoro had changed everything between them. It wasn't fair that the swordsman had taken the time to try and make it pleasurable- and all Sanji had been able to think about was _that _time.

He really was a virgin when it came to actually making love. He was no stranger to sex though, even though it had yet to be of his choice. It may not be obvious to the others, but he had never slept with a woman before. A _small _part of the reason that he was so in enamored with Nami and Robin was because technically, they couldn't hurt him. Sanji could easily hold Nami down, though it was a near impossibility for him. He was a gentleman, not just because it was the proper way to treat a lady, but because he had been so viciously abused in the past. It meant more to him than anyone would ever know. He would never seriously try to push himself onto Nami if he didn't think that she wanted to do anything with him. Though sometimes her harsh refusals hurt, Sanji could always comfort himself with the fact that at least he had respected that wish. It still made for quiet and lonely nights. This was the first time Robin had ever come up deck when she hadn't been able to sleep, so far he Sanji knew…though now that he thought about it, he had seen the light from her cabin room pouring out through the window late into the night.

"My first time was Crocodile. I was eleven. It hurt. I can still remember my own screams," Robin's voice was much steadier than his would ever be, already resigned and accustomed to the facts. Sanji couldn't even imagine saying so aloud, but he guessed circumstances were a little different between the two of them. Sanji didn't even know how old he was when it had happened; had never been told his age in the first place. Zeff had finally gotten frustrated with the whole deal and randomly declared Christmas as his birthday, since the former pirate didn't even celebrate the day in the first place. Sanji could have pummeled the shitty old man, if he didn't own him his life. They had become unspoken family on that island, the fearsome pirate known as Red Leg Zeff for soaking his pants in his enemies' blood taking on a skinny blonde orphan without saying a word. He may have felt guilty for Sanji's eye, for the way he fumbled around at first as he slowly learned to live without depth perception, a constant blind spot to his left. That was nothing to watching the shitty old man hobble around the deck, his peg leg rapping on the floor with every other step. Sanji had taken away the man's pride, along with any remaining desire to be a pirate. They had become cooks of the sea because it had been Zeff's secondary dream, and Sanji was determined to somehow pay Zeff back for what he had done.

He really had been such a stupid kid. He had worked in kitchens for as long as he could remember, so he foolishly thought that helping Zeff in his restaurant would be easy. The old fart had turned out to be the most singularly hard-to-please individual Sanji had met in his life, strict and incredibly demanding. He ran off more of the employees than hired on permanent crew. Sanji didn't bother to make friend with many of the other cooks at first, because he knew most of them would end up leaving next time they docked at port. Few people could stand Zeff's overbearing attitude, but Sanji just had to look at the shitty old man's wooden leg to be reminded why he stayed. He became a damn fine cook underneath the man as well, because Zeff wouldn't accept anything else. It was hard for the tough, aggressive cooks that were attracted to the Baratie's atmosphere to have a mere kid as the Assistant Head Chef, but Sanji had fucking _earned _it. Zeff had beaten every single recipe into his head. Sanji was confident with reason; other people had a hard time dealing with it. One unfortunate day, Sanji had found out just how much.

He still couldn't remember why he had gone into the storage room that day, but in the middle of staring at the rows of supplies in the room, the door had closed shut behind him. There were no windows in the place, but Sanji had been smart enough to turn the single bare light bulb hanging from the low ceiling on. Besides, it wasn't like he could read anything unless he was mere inches away, knowing most common ingredients just by the fuzzy outline he could usually make out between anything far away. He turned around in irritation at two fairly new cooks, both of them nothing more than dishwashers and potato-peelers for now. They could mess up at even that, and Sanji had simply gone about his work while Zeff raged at them for doing a less than outstanding job, more than used to the shitty old man's rages. The rest of the crew was usually scared witless, cowering over stoves and against walls despite the fact most of them were hardened criminals. These two were some of the worst Sanji had seen in a while, though they constantly argued that a little shrimp like him couldn't possibly have as much experience as them.

"What do you want?" Sanji growled, his head level with their stomachs. He couldn't wait for a growth spurt, sick of being looked down on. Half of them didn't respect him just because he was short, discrimination that pissed him off. Sanji would do something about his scrawny body if he could, but no matter what Zeff forced him to finish off so that there were no leftovers, Sanji couldn't gain weight. He cheeks and shoulders had filled out, but his arms and legs were barely bigger than when he'd been first rescued from that island. He hated his small size, how these two managed to loom over him. One had been scornfully nicknamed 'Muscles,' because his arms were thicker than his head. Sanji didn't doubt that the man had been born with a brain too small for his massive body, so impressively slow that Sanji wondered if he was one of those _special _people at times. He had a thin beard, scraggily enough to be a hazard in any kitchen, that grew right into the dark brown curls covering his head. Sanji hated his face and the huge skull and crossbones tattoo on his arm. He wore an apron that might have been white when first given to him, but was now stained a brown-red from who knew what. They had assigned him as a dishwasher partially because it would force the man to handle clean water and soap. Muscles neglected his personal hygiene on more than one occasion, earning several heavy kicks from Zeff until he took a bath. Sanji knew that the man resented the shitty old man and his favorite little cook for it, but if he would simply _bathe_ once in a while, they wouldn't have this problem.

His companion was taller but more average-sized, long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail with a hairnet over it all. This man was more like a prince, caring more about his own appearance than anything else, even though he had a nose that was too prominent to ever be called handsome. Sanji had been forced to jump out of the way of this man's path before because the lumbering beast purposelessly wouldn't look out for a kid. Sanji would have a hard time deciding whom he hated more, immediately on edge at being stuck in a room alone with them. He glanced past them to see the wooden latch thrown down to lock the door from the inside. The taller blonde only laugh to see him back up nervously, wondering how he could possibly get out of this mess. Every instinct was telling him to run, _run_, so much that his heartbeat was pounding in his ears and his knees started shaking.

"_Look _at this little toothpick. Why do we have to listen to what this kid says?" Muscles demanded of his friend, pointing a finger down at Sanji without looking at him. Sanji forgot to be scared, immediately more angry with the fact that he was being ignored. Even if they didn't like him, they couldn't talk about him like he wasn't there. Hadn't they come in here to threaten him in the first place?

"He's nothing but a spoiled brat anyway. Just because Zeff likes him, a sloppy punk like him is Assistant Head Chef," the blonde sneered, looking down his huge nose with cold but sickly pale blue eyes. There was nothing remarkable about him other than how ugly he ended up appearing; something deeper than his face. Sanji glared harder, hating how they assumed that because he had been around the longest and could get along with Zeff, he was just being favored. He got treated _worse _than the rest of the cooks if anything, but nobody had stayed around long enough to see when Sanji got into real trouble, just as much as when he was left alone because he was doing things right. Praise was a foreign concept to Sanji, but he wasn't about to let his skills be ignored. He had to work harder than the rest of the cooks would ever know, and they didn't have the right to gossip about him.

"I heard he can't even make a decent soup," Muscles laughed, covering his mouth with his hand in a way that made Sanji so pissed off he could barely see straight. It was bad enough that the stink of alcohol was starting to hit his nose, the two men both reeking of the stuff. Sanji frowned, wondering why grown men were making such an effort to bully one kid, but unfortunately rather used to it at this point.

"You know that isn't true, you shitheads!" Sanji snapped, not about to take it a moment longer. _That _little outburst got their attention, two heads slowly tilting down to see him for the first time. Sanji's hands made fists at his side, wishing yet again that he were taller.

"What did you say?" the blonde asked in a hushed voice, as if Sanji had just broken a window in a church. He didn't care if he was outnumbered and obviously in a bad situation already. It didn't really matter if he said anything or not. Sanji figured that they were probably going to give him a hard time no matter what he did, so why not just say the truth?

"I'm a better cook than you two dumb asses! Why can't you just admit that and leave me alone?" Sanji yelled, not about to take back his words.

Even though they were already so clearly ready to give him a hard time, Sanji still hadn't been expecting it when the blonde punched him in the face. Sanji considered himself tougher than most after having to always take that shitty old man's kicks as punishment, but it was still an adult hitting a kid. The man managed to smack the fight right out of him; the bitter tang of blood in his mouth registering before a fierce ache began to demand his attention. Sanji went down in a senseless tangle of limbs, his brain rattling around in his skull as he re reeled from the pain spreading out across his jaw. A fist was tangled up his hair and Sanji was dragged off the floor before he even realized he had hit it, dazed and shaky. He wasn't even sure which one of them had him now.

"Stand up," ordered a harsh voice before he was slapped in the face once, twice-… Sanji fell back down before the third blow could land, whistling through the air where his head had once been. He was kicked in the side, hearing the crack of the impact before he felt it race up his side. They must have broken a rib- at least bruised the bone. Sanji cried out at that, instinctively trying to curl up protectively while a crushing grip on his elbow hauled him back onto his feet, forced to dangle from his arm like a doll hanging on a string. Sanji could make out the familiar, ugly face of Muscles watching in wild attentiveness, so enthralled by the show that Sanji had to wonder what he must look like to the man.

"Listen to what I say, you fucking snot-nosed little shit!" snarled the blonde, winding up to hit him. Sanji saw the fist coming for his face in horrible, awful, slow motion clarity, unable to stop it. His nose made a popping sound as he was finally let down to the ground. Sanji clamped his hands over the bottom of his face, blood pouring out from between his fingers. He sobbed and struggled on the deck, never being beaten like this before. He could only hope that it would be enough to satisfy them now, the will to fight gone like it had never been. After a few good hits, he wanted nothing more than to just crawl into a bed and sleep for a week. The pain was starting to become a numb tingle, secondary to the shame he felt in his own weakness, his own inability to defend himself. Sanji started crawling for the door stupidly before he was brought up short by a hand cupped underneath his jaw to yank his face up. He could only pant, trying to breathe through his mouth and not choke on the blood and snot coming from his smashed nose at the same time.

"You're kind of pretty covered in blood," murmured the blonde, tilting his head to the side as he studied the damage coming in on Sanji's face. He jerked his chin out of the man's hold, that rough and dry hand going into his blind spot so that Sanji's didn't see it until he felt the man brush his hair back. Sanji froze up in shock just long enough for the man to see his _permanent_ injury before he fell back, starting to scramble back from his attacker.

"Shit," the taller man was too stunned to move for a moment, obviously still staring at the horrid, blind eye Sanji usually covered with his hair. Then, he realized that Sanji was trying to escape. He yelled and pushed back in vain as the man grabbed him by the wrists and easily hauled him back into the light. Sanji closed his good eye in shame, not sure if his other eyelid followed suit over his blind side, his wrists transferred into one hand while the other yanked his hair back. Sanji didn't know if he should be more embarrassed about being so weak or being stared at like a circus sideshow.

"Come look at this, Frijol," the older blonde demanded, jerking Sanji's head left and right so he could get a better look at it from all angles. He couldn't think of another time when he had wanted to die so much. No one had ever seen his bad eye except Zeff and the doctor that the shitty old man had taken him to when they finally got back to dry land. Sanji had been too self-conscious to even bear looking at the scar in the mirror, and knew that other people would be no different. To think that these two strangers would gaze upon it now was terrifying.

"Stop it," Sanji begged wetly, struggling desperately now as Muscles moved in to see what was so interesting. Sanji didn't care if his friend had already called him by his name; Sanji didn't want to remember it. Didn't want to get that personal with these men, even though they were both looking upon his most important secret.

"What the hell is that?" Frijol asked in a soft, amazed voice that Sanji wouldn't ever think could come from such a giant. Another hand was slapped onto the side of his face, big, stinking fingers prodding at his bad eye. Sanji screamed incoherently, just too embarrassed and horrified to do anything else. He couldn't even think, despising these two more than he thought could be possible.

"That's ugly as sin," the big man finally decided aloud, his hand leaving Sanji's face at last. The blonde laughed in agreement, tossing Sanji down like a piece of trash. He just threw his arms over his head, trying too late to hide from them. He couldn't think any brave thoughts like not letting them see him cry or remaining completely silent no matter how they tortured him- only that it would be over soon and he'd be able to find some nice dark corner to cower in for the rest of his life.

"No wonder you always wear your hair over that eye, you little freak," the blonde sneered over him, his colossal beak not as bad as Sanji's own face. He pressed his teeth into his knees, trying to make himself as small as possible. He got kicked in the shins for daring to hide against the floorboards, a weak, whimpering sound coming out from his mouth. It was covered up by the taller blonde laughing cruelly. Sanji wondered why nobody heard that high-pitched creening through the walls, even if they had ignored Sanji's earlier cries. The blonde no longer seemed interested in listening to the noises Sanji made while the man pummeled him; ripping off the bandana that served as part of his uniform and gagging Sanji with it. He started crying, hot and salty tears streaming down his face as his arms were yanked around behind his back. It only took one of their belts, looped around each wrist several times and fitting perfectly to buckle shut. A foot stomped down on the small of his back to hold him steady while shoes, pants, and underwear were ripped off with loud, violent tearing and ripping.

"Turn him onto his stomach. I don't want to see his face," Muscles announced, showing off a surprising streak of aesthetic value. Amazing how someone so stupid and slow could actually say that Sanji was too disfigured to look in the face. He glanced up to see the man beginning to work at the front of his pants like he was going to take a piss. Sanji didn't know why, but he was suddenly filled with a mind-numbing terror. The foot on his back lifted up for one moment, only to smash down onto his head. The pressure was excruciating, taking the struggle out of him as Muscles settled back onto his legs.

"Shit, he is skinny," surveyed the blonde from a distant height above Sanji's head while cold, dry hands parted his inner thighs. He cried and struggled with renewed passion when a pair of thumbs dug into his rear and parted his buttocks. There was nowhere to escape, the well-worn floor smooth and hard underneath his face as something that certainly wasn't fingers prodded his anus. Sanji's lungs tightened painfully, understanding far too late just what was going to happen. There was no warning, no sweet words, no lubrication; so violent and painful that Sanji still didn't understand to this day why Frijol had managed to derive some sort of pleasure from the act. He was literally been torn open from the inside, something that was too big for his body to easily accept shoving his bladder and other organs around as the man forced himself in.

Sanji didn't find any pleasure in his first time. It hurt too bad. There was blood as skin finally ripped in an attempt to accommodate his rapist. Sanji heard the most horrible, pitiful noises coming from his throat as his mind blanked with the pain, everything a raw burning hurt that started at the small of his back. He squirmed on the floor in animalistic suffering, just trying to get away. The boot planted on his skull was nothing compared to the agony that was being shoved in and out of him from behind. His hands jerked and thrashed around, trying to squeeze out from the leather belt wrapped around them to no avail. He heard something pop, his shoulder aching horribly but barely even registering along with the dozen of other little hurts on his body right now. He was aware of nothing other than the raw, burning erection that slide out, the head of the penis still caught inside before the man rammed it all the way back in. Sanji was shoved across the floor from the force of it despite the other blonde keeping him down.

Frijol's pants echoed in his ears, becoming louder and quicker as the man picked up his pace as well. Sanji was fucked into the floor, sobbing from the pain of this violation while Muscles slowly came to his own climax. He came deep inside Sanji, a hot liquid exploding up into his lower intestines. Then, the large, sweaty and clothed body slammed down on top of Sanji, crushing out what little air he had left in his chest. Sanji choked on the cloth shoved into his mouth, suddenly deprived of his breath. It was excruciating above all, no longer being beaten and tortured but actually dying of suffocation. It was even more terrifying to think that this was how he would die after that shitty old man had gone through all the trouble of saving him.

Sanji blacked out before they removed the gag. He didn't quite regain consciousness, but hung there in a dazed, nauseating state of confusion. He was only aware of the fact that nobody was touching him right now, that something hot and sticking was oozing out from his butt. He couldn't stop shaking, tremors running up and down his frame from overtaxed nerves. His arms were still tied up. His legs were cold.

"Well, if you can't have a gag in your mouth, we'll have to find something else," the blonde laughed in a horrible way that demanded all of Sanji's shaky attention. The tall man settled down on his knees in front of him, grabbing him by the hair again and dragging him forward. Sanji didn't have the strength to struggle anymore, just wondered why he wasn't dead yet. He wanted to be as something warm hit his face. He realized that it was the other man's cock as he hooked a thumb into Sanji's mouth, pulling his jaw open as he forced his head down toward his groin.

The door actually blew off its hinges as someone got tired of waiting for the latch to turn. Bright sunlight cut into Sanji's nightmare, everyone in the room freezing up at the interruption.

"Sanji, what the hell is taking so long to get that-…" Zeff started off yelling at him before his eyes actually registered the scene in front of him.

Sanji was hurting too much to really know what happened after that. He could only crawl away by using weak knees to shove himself toward a small corner, praying that it would be enough to hide him as the owner of the Baratie stormed into the room. He heard screaming, heard the sound of something hitting flesh over and over. Sanji just whimpered, those noises too close to the ones he'd been making only second ago. He cowered there, trembling and bleeding while he waited for it all to be over. He only wanted to die, wanted to fall back into unconsciousness and never wake up again.

Sanji was told much later that Muscles never left the storage room alive. Zeff apparently cracked his skull open and spilt the man's ever-so-small brains out. The blonde did survive… only to be thrown overboard and left to drown in the ocean. Nobody missed them terribly, barely even taking note of the incident.

Sanji didn't remember much afterward. Patty had found him cowering up against bags of flour that had been stacked by the wall when he had looked in the room to find out why Zeff was beating two employees to death. Sanji had refused to be touched by the man, trying to burrow into the cans of soup in an attempt to escape further beating. He wouldn't even let anyone get close enough to undo the belt still around his arms. Nobody had the heart to touch him when he was so scared, until Zeff just grabbed him and hauled him out of the little safe place he'd found.

He did remember Zeff letting him hold onto his bigger hand while the ship doctor had tended to him, wiping him down with a rag before seeing to the wounds. Sanji's own fingers bit small half-moons into the edge of Zeff's palm, still sticky from handling dough. He remembered the shitty old man going on about how a chef's livelihood depended on his hands. Sanji couldn't help it, couldn't manage to hold on any tighter than he already was while the doctor sewed up the bleeding damage in his rear. The old man that served as their ship's physician was more used to cutting limbs off than he was to saving them, rough and crude in his work but thankfully quick. Sanji's fingers were pried off of Zeff's hand so that the doctor could set the shoulder that had been popped out of its socket in his struggles. Sanji passed out soon after, unable to bear that treatment when his body had finally started going numb.

Sanji spent the next few days in hell. Zeff put him in his own soft, feather mattress and clean sheets, having the only real bed on the whole ship. The stinking bastard had excused it with being old and needing a proper place to sleep, but he didn't show any restraint in buying the best covers with the restaurant's profits. Sanji had gained a fever, which was made even more uncomfortable by the fact that he had to stay on his stomach. It left him a sweaty mess, switching between chills and fever dreams that were filled of two men grabbing him, holding him down… The first time that Sanji awoke in full control of his facilities, coherent enough to realize where he was- only that everything was tossed into complete darkness, his good eye swollen shut after taking so many blows to the face.

He'd panicked so badly that Zeff had held Sanji down and cut his eye with the skill of a master chef. He soaked up the blood welling out with a towel until the swelling went down, bandaging Sanji right back up. Zeff was incredibly patient; weathering out Sanji's nightmares and illness with the endurance of any pirate that had made it to the Grand Line. The shitty old man wasn't the type of person to hold another, not about to even touch Sanji beyond occasionally changing his bandages and smoothing back sweaty hair. He was forced to eat thin broth and funny-smelling tea, even though it made his stomach hurt. There was little that _didn't _pain him, in fact. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move his arm, it hurt to pee, and the one time he had actually managed to pass something solid since he'd been attacked, Sanji had wound up a sobbing, aching mess. Zeff apparently got just as sick of seeing him suffer as Sanji was with it, wishing the old man would just have the decency to let him die. Instead, Zeff forced him to drink bitter, straight shots of alcohol despite his age until Sanji passed out.

It had taken a long time for Sanji recover. His confidence had been beaten right out of him. He was scared of loud noises, cringed at sudden movements, and had developed a constant tremor in his hands. It made him completely useless to the kitchen now, unable to even approach the door to the storage room before insensible terror would take over. He couldn't even help with the everyday chores of a sailing vessel, left too weak from spending so many days bedridden and sick to lift or pull anything heavy. He was left with doggedly following Zeff around, too scared to be out of sight of his protector for very long. Unfortunately the shitty old man's patience for having a little kid underfoot ran out rather quickly. Sanji was still thankful for the tough love that had followed, even if it had left Sanji in tears on the quarterdeck. He didn't doubt that if it weren't for Zeff forcing him to go straight back to the way things normally were, he would have never healed. Even so, Zeff didn't yell at him or hit him for messing up like usual, though Sanji did an awful lot of it. Instead, the shitty old man took the time to teach him his fighting style. Sanji was sure Zeff had shown him just so that he could defend himself, but Sanji had trained like a maniac. It wasn't because he was scared or anything… but he did have to admit that being able to kick through a stone wall did wonders to help gain some attitude back. It had been incredibly cliché, but time had eventually healed all hurts. He started to forget about it and move on for the most part, shoving that memory back where the rest of the bad ones belonged. He had survived in his own way, with lots of help from that shitty old man. Robin had been alone with Crocodile for years, obviously no longer eleven and too weak to fight back, Devil Fruit or not. Sanji had remembered how hard the fight against Crocodile had been… how Robin must have had to live through everyday listening to that bastard laugh.

"I'm sorry, Robin. I guess if anyone should understand…" Sanji he trailed off, not sure where he was going with that, not sure who he was trying to comfort. He threw both arms over the side rail and went back to staring down at the dark waters below. He suddenly didn't want to talk about this any more. He never _had_ talked about it before, not even to Zeff- and certainly not Zoro when the swordsman had wanted to know why Sanji had been such a horrible bed partner. Robin wasn't someone he wanted to talk to either, even if she was someone who would understand what it was like to survive through rape. It was hard now to admit it, to put it into that word. There was one part Robin couldn't understand, and that was that he was a man. Boys weren't supposed to be raped… How were they supposed to be men afterwards? Had Zoro sensed that about him? Was that why the man had abruptly decided to switch from arguing to lovemaking? It was hard not to start crying right then and there, knowing that there were no more cigarettes, and that even Zoro wouldn't sleep forever. They'd eventually have to see each other again on such a small ship, and Sanji wasn't looking forward to that at all.

"We're both stronger now for it, right?" Robin laughed, a discrete smile on her elegant face as she turned her back to the railing, resting her elbows against it as she leaned back. Probably studying the moon or something else that Sanji didn't care about. He had more than enough to deal with on his own. He _had _thought that he was stronger for it, but then Zoro just waltzed in and screwed him on top of the kitchen table. He was going to have to scrub it down good, and it would probably never be enough to forget the noises he'd been making, how Zoro was doing his best to be everything Sanji could have ever wanted. He hated the bastard for pretending to be so caring and romantic for however long it had taken to stick his dick inside him. Sanji was still sore, not just physically. He was shaken, trying to recover from those few minutes of horrible vulnerability when _no one _was allowing him the privacy he needed. He couldn't act gentlemanly toward Robin right now, doing his best just to stay silent because he was certain if he opened his mouth, only bad things would come out right now. He wanted a cigarette.

"But, at least I'm not so frightened as to let a good opportunity slide by," she sighed at last, as if that was supposed to mean something to him. Sanji could only seem to feel angry at the moment, his usual adoration for the woman gone without a trace. How could he think about loving someone else when he hated _himself_ so much? Zoro was probably laughing his ass of at him right now.

"What are you trying to say, Robin-chan?" Sanji asked, hearing the challenge to his masculinity. He may be down in the dumps tonight, but he would recover. He was having a hard time right now; anyone would after what he had been through tonight. He hadn't had sex once, not once, since he'd been forced to do it against his will. He had always thought that it would be a refined, pretty woman as well. Someone like Nami or Robin.

"If Luffy taught me anything, it's that it's alright to be selfish. Think about what you want, Sanji," Robin persuaded him gently…ambiguously. His eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out exactly what she was talking about. Sanji didn't have much desire beyond a new frying pan and a thick chain to lock around the refrigerator so Luffy would stop gorging on all their rations. But, he was pretty sure that Robin wouldn't be this serious for just material needs. Sanji didn't have anything to be selfish _about_, other than the fact that he was the one giving up his hammock tonight.

"If you mean Zo-…" he started.

"Let's just say it would be nice to have less competition for Nami-san," Robin patted him on the shoulder before Sanji ended up embarrassing himself. She left him alone after that, either because she thought she had made her point or Robin could tell by looking at his face that Sanji was about to have a minor emotional breakdown. Her footsteps faded away before he heard the sound of a door closing as Robin smoothly returned to her cabin. Sanji let out a haggard breath of relief, sagging down with weak knees and an even weaker heart. He just had to get it all out of his system and things would be better in the morning. Zoro would eventually wake up and leave his hammock, and from then on they could pretend like nothing had ever happened. It was a perfect plan. Tomorrow, he could flirt with Robin and Nami like usual, even if Zoro was the only person on the ship he had actually had sex with. Sanji began scratching at the stubble he could get to grow on his chin in a nervous habit, since he didn't have any more cigarettes. He was so wrapped up in his own problems that it had taken a moment for Robin's last statement to hit.

Did this mean that Robin was a lesbian?

Was Nami one as well?

Had they already _done _something together?

Sanji moaned, not quite sure if this was turning out to be his worst or best night ever. On one hand, it could mean he could get both women at the same time, instead of always being tormented by the thought of having to choose between one of them. Or, there was the more likely reality of Robin and Nami being a couple and shutting him out, leaving Sanji to fend for himself with the rest of the degenerates that were on this ship. Sanji had already seen how that had turned out, his ass _still _aching. He was really going to have to beat Zoro up this time, his pride hurting too badly for anything less. A little physical hurt on someone else would be just the medicine he needed… but he just lacked the confidence right now. He was in a hopeless depression now, in danger of losing his two beloved ladies, his dignity in front of his crewmates, his masculinity whenever Zoro chose to throw him down on the galley table and fuck him blind next. Sanji didn't have anywhere to go, standing there with his head running around in useless circles while the ship continued silently cruising forward. The glowing light coming out from Robin's window turned off a long time later, the moon at Sanji's back as he stayed outside to watch the waves. For some reason, he couldn't even muster up the energy to get bored with this.

A blanket settled down on his shoulders and Sanji blinked at the fabric and then to it's deliverer. It was Zoro, of course, who had managed to sneak up on him without making any noise at all. At least the green-haired man had the decency to put on a pair of pants, but that was it other than the scars decorating Zoro's chest and arms. His face was unreadable as Sanji stared at the source of all his trouble, Zoro's usual frown firmly in place. He didn't have anything to say to the swordsman, uncomfortably turning away from his crewmate and pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. He hadn't even realized that he was cold until he finally had something protecting him from the evening breeze, a sudden set of the chills coming on. It was just too bad that Zoro had been the one to bring the blanket out to him, because Sanji did _not _want to accept any of the man's pity right now. With icy cold fingers, he made to throw the damn thing right back at the asshole.

"Listen, I'll be pissed if you freeze to death out here," Zoro grumbled at last, stopping him with a hand on top of his own. It was unexpected, that casual but intimate contact. Sanji was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that Zoro had never touched him unless they were fighting… or having sex, Sanji bitterly reminded himself.

"I'll do what I want," Sanji snapped right back, jerking himself away from that meaty, callused hand angrily. What he really wanted to do was kick Zoro in that strong, ugly chin of his, but the swordsman had already proved earlier just how futile that would. Sanji was angry and sore and wanted to be stubborn, _determined _to 'piss' Zoro off in whichever way possible and not even sure why. He knew he was acting childishly, but he couldn't think of anything better. He hated Zoro for taking advantage of him, for somehow tricking him into making love, for coming out here to tell him that it had all been a mistake or such. He was sure that Zoro had some kind of motive other than bringing him a blanket; was probably going to say that he wasn't really gay and that they should never speak of it again. That would suit Sanji just fine, dismissing the painful tightening of his chest as the stress of the awkward situation they were in now…not that he might be afraid of permanently ruining the little bit of friendship they had managed to form while sailing together on this ship. There were only six other people on this ship- well; five humans with all respect to Chopper- and one of them seemed bent on making his life hell.

"Well, what _do _you want to do then?" Zoro finally asked at last, standing back with one hand on his hip like he could perfectly well tell Sanji what his aspirations _should _be. It was that superior look in Zoro's eyes, in the way he was holding himself that set Sanji off in the first place, rapidly frustrated past all common sense.

"Shit, you and Robin both! Since when did you get so concerned about my desires?" Sanji yelled, wishing he could toss the damn blanket overboard to show Zoro his appreciation- but, it was his and Sanji didn't know when they might hit the next island with human civilization. He hated this deathtrap of a ship, how there was no choice but to get along with everyone simply because they were the only people to be found for miles out on the open ocean.

"Since I became one of them?" Zoro asked.

"Don't fucking startwith me right now! _You_ were the one humping my leg like a dog in heat. I didn't want to _do_ that!" Sanji screamed it without regard for who might be trying to sleep on the ship. Zoro's face twitched, frowning and visibly backing down for a moment after that outburst. It was as if the thought of Sanji _not_ enjoying getting a dick up the ass had never crossed his mind. Stupid, muscle-bound swords freak. Sanji could clearly remember saying 'no' before being overwhelmed by pleasure and losing all reasonable thought. If Zoro had stopped touching him and kissing him for one fucking second, Sanji was sure that he would he would have been repeating his first sentiments. Zoro had given him very little choice in the matter, and it was only a fluke of luck that Sanji had actually enjoyed it. As much as he hated admitting it, Zoro had been rather good. He had been feeling lonely too, needing something better than his hands and sick of constant rejection from Nami and Robin. It had been pleasant to be that close to another person again, but Sanji had known damn well that they were both just using each other. It had been nothing but a physical act between them. Sanji began to wonder who he was trying to convince so desperately.

"Look, about… that," Zoro coughed uncomfortably, running a hand through his short hair and pausing as if to give Sanji a moment to brace himself. He didn't need to, had been prepared for the worst case scenario long ago. He could have guessed that Zoro wasn't used to same-sex relationships, a proud warrior that had probably avoided the fags up until this point. Sanji had as well, but it was more out of a personal preference for the curves, hair, lips, and unique allure of a beautiful woman. He didn't have anything against that way of life, but Zoro was getting tense as if he was going to start a fight.

"I think you got the wrong idea about it," he started so typically that Sanji wanted to scream aloud. How had he gotten the wrong idea about it? He just been trying to roll some cigarettes for the week, thinking about what would be for dinner, everything fine and usual until Zoro had come in and wrestled his clothes off. Where was the love in that? It had been little better than fumbling around drunk and blindfolded; Sanji left cursing his inexperience. Why couldn't he have something better to compare the sex to another than the one time he had really been taken against his will? Sanji almost regretted saying something so harsh before, knowing that Zoro had truly done nothing of the sort but liking the way the man's face had contorted with guilt.

"I didn't want it to be a one-time thing. I know I came on a little too strong, but… Aw, hell, you know how it gets out here," Zoro tried, looking a little desperate to explain himself. Sanji wanted to take delight in the swordsman's clumsy and frantic efforts, but he was too shocked to really appreciate it. Zoro was not only admitting that he had been overwhelmingly sudden, but he didn't want to let things end on that note either. Sanji wasn't quite sure how to deal with that, certainly not an option he had considered. He had thought Zoro was just concerned about the sex, since that seemed to be the only reason why the swordsman was so abruptly worried about him. Why else would Zoro be out here bringing him a blanket? He studied the swordsman out of the corner of his eye as Zoro began to squirm underneath his silence, the large, diagonal slash across his chest twisting around as he shifted his weight around. Sanji heard the man attempt to say something, stop, rethink it, and try again a grand total of four times before he even got out a real sentence.

"I should have said so earlier, but I got caught up in the moment. I'm sorry, okay?" Zoro hit him with an apology, breaking through his defensives so easily that it just wasn't fair. He honestly hadn't thought it was possible for such a prideful man like Zoro to apologize to another person. He looked like he was being honest about it, his face very serious and eyes darker than usual. Sanji had to wonder if the slightly shorter man knew just how handsome he was. Did Zoro even think about something other than swords?

"It's not something you apologize about," Sanji hissed darkly, trying to crush down that part of him that wanted to take pity on the poor bastard along with Zoro. Was a simple phrase of words supposed to make up for everything? Anybody could say they were sorry and move on like nothing could happen. It didn't take _anything_ other than a breath air before starting. Sanji was glad that Zoro had brought the blanket out, because it helped hide how badly his hands were starting to shake with the desire to hit the big idiot.

"Come on, give a guy some credit. You were doing that thing with your fingers; what else was I supposed to do?" Zoro still seemed to think that he had the upper ground in this, smiling at the flare of temper instead of backing down like any normal person would. Sanji was brought up short by Zoro's latest admission; those said fingers tightening up in the blanket as if they were trying to hide. Sanji certainly felt like it himself, his side pressed into the guardrail and nowhere left to go but overboard if he wanted to get away from Zoro. Sanji bit the inside of his mouth, determined not to be misled by the man. A compliment meant just as much as an apology; it was just a bunch of pretty words slung together.

"That thing with my fingers?" Sanji echoed back senselessly, blinking in confusion.

"Yeah… I like your hands," Zoro declared, reaching over and pulling one out from the trim cloak he had made out of the blanket. Zoro's hands were bigger than his, able to cover up his own easily. Sanji had never thought of his own skin as soft, always washing his hands in between handling the food with industrial soap like the shitty old man had taught him; but against Zoro's rough and cracking palms he realized just how much better care he took of his. Hands were a cook's livelihood. There was no way he could handle pans or cut meat without fingers. That was the secret reason for Zeff's exclusively kicking fighting style that Sanji had been taught so long ago… so why was he only _now _appreciating that? He stared at Zoro as the swordsman began to rub hands over Sanji's own, glancing up once to meet his own gaze and raise an eyebrow up at whatever expression he was making. Sanji felt a slow burn working its way up from his neck and ears, certain that he was blushing and having no control over it.

"They're pretty damn cold though," Zoro chuckled as he shifted his weight forward, making Sanji aware of how close they were. Just a little bit of a lean and suddenly they were close enough to kiss, Zoro bringing up Sanji's hand to blow a hot, wet breath over the chilled fingers. It may have been such a simple thing to do, but it was so intimate Sanji felt the blood beginning to move toward his groin in response. He was stuck fast, unable to pull his arm away as he watched Zoro try to warm him up… and began to shiver himself, minute trembling in the man's broad shoulders that were becoming more and more noticeable.

"You came out here to give me a blanket, and now you're freezing yourself?" Sanji demanded, trying to sound irritated but unable to keep the humor from his voice. For being such a skilled fighter, Zoro seemed to have lost out on common sense.

"Why didn't you put on a shirt?" Sanji would have preferred it if Zoro had come out fully clothed instead of distracting him with a perfectly formed waist and chest, nothing but bulging muscles underneath neat, trim scars. All Zoro did was train his body and take part in life-threatening duels, and it showed on every inch of his body. Sanji really did _need_ that cigarette now, anything to distract him from the awkwardness of standing so close to the swordsman. Zoro sighed, somehow able to read that Sanji was becoming more and more uncomfortable with him and finally dropped his hand. Zoro wrapped his own arms around himself instead, obviously freezing his own ass off now.

"I never said I was the smart one. Why don't you share the damn blanket already?" Zoro growled, tugging at his shoulder. Sanji sighed, knowing that Zoro would just force him to anyway- so he just opened it up and allowed the shorter swordsman to slide up right against him, making sure to keep Zoro on his good side. He didn't feel like he could trust Zoro on his blind eye, at least, not yet. Zoro put an arm around his back, tugging the blanket up around his opposite shoulder; the other shoved underneath Sanji's armpit. Sanji couldn't understand why he wasn't uncomfortable with this. Zoro was cold for a moment before his skin warmed up and began to heat Sanji as well, his hand not even dropping down to Sanji's hip. It was admittedly agreeable to stand there in silence, nothing other than the waves and the stars in the sky. If Sanji had been trying to seduce a woman, it would have been an excellent and romantic mood. As it was, Sanji only felt a strange calm, not sure if he was really okay with this, if Zoro had meant what he said, if he was hungry or his stomach hurt from taking a load of sperm into his lower intestines… and despite all the confusion, he was relieved that Zoro didn't hate him. It was certainly an outrageous fear, but Sanji couldn't help but believe he had done something wrong. He had been so unsure of what to do the whole time, not quite understanding why the electric jolts that Zoro had managed to cause with his mouth and hands had felt so good. He had always thought that sex between two men was something to be ashamed of, something that only _hurt_. Zoro had shown him just what a gross misunderstanding that had been, and now Sanji couldn't help but feel like a fool for being so afraid in the first place. At least there was hope of a second time now, if Zoro kept his word; and maybe then, Sanji could actually enjoy himself.

"So… how long are we going to stand out here?" Zoro finally asked at last, growing too bored to stay quiet a single moment more. He wasn't the type to appreciate tranquility, probably daydreaming about cutting through steel or some impossible bullshit like that. Sanji liked to deal with the real problems instead of senselessly doing as he pleased, which seemed to be Zoro's specialty.

"I don't know," Sanji answered honestly. He still hadn't sorted out what was going on inside his head, and until then he honestly didn't feel like moving. Sanji felt Zoro's careless shrug rather than saw it, the swordsman snuggling in closer still to him. Sanji was about to protest, fine with sharing a blanket but not about to do anything more than that- at least while they were out on the open deck where anyone could just walk up and see them.

"Whatever. Just tell me when you get sick of looking at nothing, shitty cook," Zoro grumbled affectionately, turning into Sanji and pressing his forehead against his cheek. Zoro apparently didn't enjoy watching the ocean like Sanji did, much more content to settle against him like Zoro was planning to take a nap. Sanji wouldn't put it past the man, sure that Zoro was able to sleep standing up, but Sanji could always kick the brawny narcoleptic awake if he did. Until then, it was rather nice to stand there with Zoro and a blanket wrapped around him, warm and safe for the rest of the night. Sanji knew he shouldn't trust anyone to not take advantage of him, had far too much of it happen to him to be convinced any differently, but for some reason he believed that Zoro would be respectful of him. He really was such a fool, all the arguments falling down into dust as Sanji realized he could trust Zoro.

Stupid bastard.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: As always, kudos to Iie Nome for helping with beta and musing. The plot bunnies are a hard bunch to keep in line.

APPRECIATION ANNOUNCEMENT

Arhetoske- thank you so much for the review, it was very flattering to hear that you thought it was NC17-rated One Piece… because that's what I was going for. Thank you again!

Bunny- heheh thank you for commenting, that's why I make more.

Cozmic-Gal- thank you for the review. As requested, here is some more! This statement is followed by evil laughter

Hyperativator- thank you for reviewing, that's why I post this crap in the first place. I saw the One Piece they were showing on television and was spurred into immediately writing this in response. Heheh, hooray for smut.

IntoxicatedXtc- Thank you for commenting! I love to write one piece, and what better than Zoro on top of Sanji?

KyraKitty- thank you for the review! I always worry about my dialogue not being very natural or in character, so thanks for the comment. I was trying to go for Zoro being extremely horny, but I guess it was over the top ; well second time around might help clear things up.

LAChick- thank you for commenting. I really like Zoro and Sanji, they're like my favorite One Piece characters…so, what better than to have them together?

Ru Shin- thank you for the review. I now have more for you all. It's a good thing.

Tri- thank you very much for the review! I meant to cover Sanji's part as well, as you can now read… it just took a while to actually write. Thank you for the encouragement though, it definitely helped! Xxkurenaixx- aw thank you for such an enthusiastic review! I'm sure there are moments in the anime where Sanji's eye is just fine, but for the most part they don't show it… so I used my imagination and made this weak cough.


	3. A memory thrown in Cupid's face

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Eiichiro Oda and your mom. 'Zolo' just makes me think he's a hard candy I can suck on . . . hmm . . .

Somewhere along the line, Zoro had made the stupid assumption that since Sanji was a guy, he'd be easier to understand. Women were always being devious and had double agendas, lying without so much as batting an eye, and so goddamn emotional Zoro could hardly stand it. He didn't know what to do when they started crying, so he ended up just walking out every time. There had never been a reason for Zoro to stick around when things suddenly became more trouble than they were worth- but he didn't have that sort of escape plan on a pirate ship . . . and frankly, he wanted to pound Sanji's face in until he got some answers. Zoro wasn't good at guessing, was lousy at mind games, and couldn't find his way out of a paper bag; but his terrible sense of direction wasn't at fault here. It was all because of Sanji, that selfish little punk and his silent treatment.

It was always the blondes that were so damn ornery.

Zoro had gone to sleep in his hammock with a slender cook curled up on his chest, legs tangled together nicely. It had been warm and comfortable; probably the soundest sleep Zoro had gotten in a long while. The only problem was sometime before dawn, he woke up cold and alone, the blanket they had shared left on the floor to point in accusation at the direction Sanji must have wandered off in. It had been a little more than insulting, after Zoro had stood outside for the better part of last night with Sanji trying to convince the cook that this was going to work. He thought Sanji had finally agreed when they went to sleep together- but the light of day had shown something much different. There was nothing quite like walking out on deck to see your sexual partner drooling buckets over the other two women in the crew. Sanji apparently had run out of bed to make a special breakfast especially for Nami and Robin- while the rest of them had gotten a platter of what was nothing more than very delicious slop. Luffy and Usopp didn't care; digging in with their spoons while Zoro fought the urge to be sick. He could tell Sanji was pointedly ignoring him, not so much as even looking in his direction. It was like the other males on the ship didn't even exist for Sanji, who had moodily shut himself into the kitchen for the rest of the morning.

Zoro didn't particularly care to give Sanji's little mood, going off to work-out on his own until he was doing push-ups over a puddle of sweat. He could ignore Sanji just as well, having plenty of other things to occupy his time. Somewhere along the line Robin set a chair up against the edge of the rail and began reading. Zoro didn't mind since she wouldn't try to talk to him, but of them perfectly content with their own activities. Nami and Usopp were arguing about something over by the tangerine tree, their voices being carried over when the bickering got particularly vicious but otherwise incomprehensible. It was a perfectly normal day . . . to the untrained eye. Sanji was giving him such a cold shoulder that the galley's door was practically icing over.

Bastard. Just what the hell was there to get uptight about! Zoro couldn't even understand it. Every other woman he'd run across had begged him to stay a little bit longer, if he wanted to do it one more time before he had to go. Sanji was even worse than the first day he'd met the skinny fuck, something about the blonde instantly setting his teeth on edge. They had just never gotten along, and after last night Zoro had attributed it all to sexual tension. Apparently for Sanji, that wasn't it and now their relationship was worse than ever. Zoro had gotten mixed messages from intimate partners before, but that shitty cook definitely took the cake on this one. He couldn't even keep up with the blonde's ridiculous chain of thought if he wanted to. Everything officially made no sense whatsoever any more thanks to that human chimney. Zoro couldn't stand it; especially the way the smell of tobacco smoke had clung to Sanji's surprisingly soft and silky hair . . .

Zoro tossed down the heavy weights he had been lifting angrily, making Robin finally look up from her book in curiosity.

"Done already?"

Zoro was too angry to even answer her, already marching off to take a cold shower by himself, as he had done oh-so-many times before.

But after that, he was seriously going to kill Sanji.

* * *

Sanji took one steadying drag from his cigarette, staring down the closed door in front of him like he could open it with pure will alone. He didn't want to do this, but he had little choice in the matter. It would be better if he just marched straight in there and was perfectly blunt and honest about what was wrong . . . but Sanji couldn't even think of how to say it. He had a serving platter full of an afternoon snack, shamelessly using food as a weapon to start conversation with. There was no creature alive that could resist a dish he'd prepared personally. He was the greatest cook in East Blue, after all. If he kept following around Luffy it would soon become the best in the world- just because that rubber bastard seemed determined to explore every part of sailable ocean. Sanji couldn't care less about finding the One Piece treasure, but his recipe book was quickly becoming a flourishing collection of the strange dishes he found in the Grand Line. His library was beginning to rival Nami's; not that he could ever compete with such a beautiful and daring woman. He could still do his best within his own forte, and had proved time and time again that he was unrivaled in the culinary arts.

Firming himself up with such thoughts, Sanji knocked twice before simply opening up the door. He forced himself to stride in confidently without a word, glancing around dully at the room. It was barely larger than a prison cell, but a pirate ship it was quite luxurious. There were no windows, but that seemed to matter little with shelves taking up every possible inch of wall space. Books and thousands of small glass vials were secured down in various ways; a bizarre assortment of herbs and plants hung from the ceiling as they were dried out. It was hard enough just to make sense of the relative chaos in the room before he finally spotted it's occupant.

"S- sa- Sanji?" was stammered out from underneath the small table Usopp had constructed just for the timid reindeer. Chopper's hat and antlers were still sticking out above the chair, the strange little monster unable to hide himself quickly enough. Now that he recognized the intruder, their ship's doctor pulled himself back up onto his chair and twisted around to greet Sanji properly, his hooves making squeaks with each step. Sanji could only frown down at those big, liquid brown eyes and bright blue nose; the diminutive creature so cute it should be a crime. Sanji coughed once around his cigarette before sucking on it greedily again, reminding himself exactly why he had come here in the first place.

"Hey, I figured you might want a snack. You've been working in here all day long," Sanji offered smoothly, trying to be just as natural as he was around Nami and Robin. Chopper blinked down in obvious shock at the platter Sanji set down before him, lifting off the cover to reveal freshly baked muffins from blueberry to sunflower seed and steaming tea. Sanji was sure that Luffy was already digging into the leftovers, a dozen of each kind minus one set out unguarded on the table with the door open to allow the smell to drift out. Sanji didn't want any interruptions for this, glancing back at the door and wishing that it had a lock.

"Thank you! Wow, Sanji, you're so thoughtful," Chopper laughed out in amazement, relaxing at last. He took one muffin, happily munching on it while Sanji watched. Predictably, there were cries of 'delicious' and other typical comments that Sanji didn't even listen to. He was more relieved that the reindeer had actually been able to eat it, knowing well enough how delicate the animal's stomach was. Sanji took a small pouch out from his pocket, snapping it open and stabbing out the end of his cigarette on the inside of it. He dropped the almost-finished stick into the purse and returned it to his jacket, already wishing he had something to chew on instead of trying to talk to their ship's doctor. Sanji settled on biting his thumb for a moment, studying Chopper hard as he searched for the exact words.

"Is something wrong?" Chopper questioned considerately when Sanji stayed quiet for too long, pausing over. He could have kissed the reindeer for giving him the opening

"Actually, I've been having a little problem lately . . ." Sanji got that far before he trailed off, no longer sure of what to say. Chopper blinked back at him, obviously waiting for more. The doctor set his muffin down on the table and turned around to give Sanji his full attention, resting his front hooves on his knees and staring up at him.

"Do you feel sick?" Chopper's voice was filled with worry, his animal senses probably tipping him off to how serious this was Sanji was having a hard enough time with it himself, no doubt sweating and stinking of fear like humans tended to do. If he had to deal with anyone else on the ship, Sanji was sure he could have fooled them without a second thought. It was harder to do when the good doctor had a nose that could find him out at any minute.

"No, no, it's not that sort of thing," Sanji tried explaining, but he still couldn't force anything more out. He shifted around on his feet while Chopper watched calmly, the aches inside his body getting worse with every movement. Even the pain wasn't enough to motivate him, not yet. It was so damn embarrassing he might end up dying before he finally asked Chopper for help. Sanji really wished he could just go kick the hell out of the one responsible for this all in the first place, but in his current state, Sanji would probably end up a limp puddle on the floor for trying. Damn him for doing this.

"Well, what's wrong then?" Chopper urged Sanji to continue gently with a smile. He was pretty sure that he could trust the reindeer to keep a secret, especially when it was a medical problem. He was also damn sure that nobody else had come to Chopper with this sort of trouble before . . . but if he didn't get help soon he might be in serious trouble, Sanji was painfully reminded by the rolling of his stomach. At least he was alone with the doctor and had prepared some insurance to not be interrupted, swallowing his pride and letting out with it.

"I . . . I can't go to the bathroom," Sanji admitted at last, feeling a blush come across his face like he was twelve all over again. There was a slight pause as the doctor took the information in, killing Sanji as it stretched out to a dangerous length. Did it mean that something was seriously wrong with him? Could the doctor already be able to guess why he was like this?

"I thought Usopp fixed the door already- . . ." Chopper started obliviously, citing the threadbare sheet that had served as a temporary wall for privacy.

"No, it hurts too much to take a shit, and what I did manage was all fucking bloody!" Sanji cried out, letting the panic come out at last. He didn't want to dance around the subject any longer, worried that he had already waited too long and had managed to do irreversible damage to his innards.

Chopper just stared back at him in utter shock, mouth open and whole body frozen over at Sanji's outburst. He didn't know if he had just startled the reindeer or if Chopper was too disgusted to speak. It wasn't like Sanji had any other choice, since nobody else on this ship could possibly be able to do something for him besides Chopper. He could go to the one at fault, but Sanji most definitely didn't want to talk to Zoro about the aftereffect of being screwed into the galley table. It was a matter of pride, and he knew that Zoro would think him weaker and vulnerable than he really was if the brutish swordsman caught wind of this.

"When did it start? Did you get food poisoning?" Chopper questioned as soon as he recovered, much more confident than Sanji would have given the little creature credit for. He was a doctor after all, and seemed to be taking Sanji's yelling very seriously. What if it really was something grim and deadly! He was too young to die- and for such a stupid reason too! Zoro would probably never be able to stop laughing over his grave . . .

"I would be able to tell if something had gone bad!" Sanji snapped back angrily, not about to let his cooking skills be called into question as well. As if he would dare serve something that was rotten- beyond the time he couldn't stop Luffy before their captain was scarfing down moldy bread and the like. Sanji didn't understand how the idiot could still be alive after the things he'd shoved down his throat.

"Then, how long have you been having this problem?" Chopper demanded, his tiny voice able to sound quite fierce right now. Despite being a small deer, the serious look in his eye told Sanji all. He was scared out of his mind, certain he was fatally ill or such. All he could do was pray that Chopper would be able to do something, no matter how ridiculous the circumstances were. No matter how much he didn't want to say it, he would have to explain it all to his doctor if Sanji wanted to be healed.

"After . . . AfterZoroandididit," he mumbled out softly, crossing his arms and doing his best to avoid eye contact with the doctor. Again with that damn silence as Chopper tried to make sense of that embarrassed whisper. Sanji didn't want to have to repeat himself- just wanted Chopper to give him some pills or something and say that everything was going to be all right. Was he going to have to tell Zoro he was dying because the muscle-brained idiot fucked him too hard?

"What?" Chopper obviously hadn't caught his drift, unable to pick up on his discomfort and bright blush that was going from the back of his neck to the top of his hairline. The reindeer was so damn innocent about some things, and could be just as dense as Luffy. He wouldn't be able to use any innuendoes to explain or they would end up being here all day.

"I- shit," Sanji cursed to himself, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Chopper's reaction.

"I had sex with Zoro."

There.

He couldn't be any clearer than that. Sanji didn't feel any relief at finally announcing the cause of this, just numb humiliation that was managing to overpower the ache between his hips. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to remain standing, but he couldn't sit down comfortably either- as he had already unpleasantly discovered this morning. He had been left more sore than after any fight he'd been in, Zoro managing to imprint bruises everywhere on him, even in some spots he didn't ever remember the swordsman touching. He looked more like he'd been mauled than indulged in the most extreme, mind-blowing sex of his life. But, those were all unnecessary details right now. It wasn't like Sanji could lie about anyone else doing it, since they had already been sailing for weeks since the last island; and he certainly didn't want Chopper getting the idea that he had let Usopp or Luffy paw at him in such a manner. He was truly surrounded by idiots, finally opening up his eyes to glance at the stunned and mute doctor that was no longer even looking at him . . . just stunned out of his small, furry little skull.

"Intercourse," Sanji tried a different word, one that sounded more medical and Chopper was more likely to know. He gained two separate, hard blinks from Chopper, the creaking of the boat growing louder and louder as the reindeer mulled over the information. He was looking Sanji up and down in a way that would have made him kick the utter crap out of anyone else- but right now, Chopper was his only hope to fix whatever Zoro had done to his body.

"But, you're both guys . . ." Chopper mumbled, shaking his head in confusion. He probably had anatomy books with something written about human intercourse- but it was unlikely that any of those medical books had anything to do with gay sex. He didn't want to have to explain that as well, already in intense pain and humiliated past the point of no return. He'd never be able to look Chopper in the eyes again, even if the doctor barely came up to Sanji's knees in his usual form.

"It can happen, trust me. I need some help here, please," Sanji didn't care if he was starting to whine. He was desperate for physician's word that he was just overreacting that he was going to be okay if he just slept on it. His stomach had been cramping badly when he begun moving around in the morning, and it had already turned into an unbearable torment a bit after lunchtime. He was just going to have to ask Zoro to knock him unconscious if Chopper couldn't do anything, because Sanji was losing his ability to deal with this in a collected and rational way.

"Well, I guess there's no choice then. I'm going to have to examine you . . . down there, of course," Chopper announced at last, in a stammering voice that sounded just as uncomfortable about this as Sanji. But, as their ship's doctor, he had a duty to see to their good health. Sanji had just never had this sort of problem before, ready to die after Chopper tried to avoid saying anything about his rear. Sanji had no doubt he'd be hearing some interesting substitutions for anus, since Chopper was having such a hard time even understanding what his plight was. He didn't want to have to go into any further detail himself, forcing himself to unclench his jaw and try to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Of course I know that. Just- just where do you want me to go?" Sanji asked in a rougher voice than he meant to use, beginning to undo his belt as Chopper began to rush about the place and prepare for the examination.

* * *

"Zoro! Look at what I caught!" Luffy demanded excitedly when Zoro emerged from below deck, in a clean shirt, pants, and his waistband with all three swords tucked inside, comfortably barefoot at the end of all that. His head was still wet, but his short hair would dry out in no time with the ocean breeze and sun. Their luck with the weather lately had been so good that Zoro was expecting a storm or whirlpool at any time just to make up for the fact. Fishing had been particularly successful lately as well, though Zoro was getting a craving for real meat. They might run across an island and Zoro could have a chance to hunt down a wild animal- or he could simply attack the cook that was trying so very hard to ignore the fact that Zoro was even alive. He still didn't see Sanji anywhere on deck, though it looked like the rest of the crew had gathered around. Nami and Robin were talking together at the helm while Usopp and Luffy sat on the edge of the railing with fishing poles. Usopp was still glaring down at the waters in fierce concentration while Luffy pointed at the catch he had managed to bring in.

Zoro made a choking noise at the strange creatures still twitching on the deck, doubting if any of them were edible. There was something that might have been a squid, except it had claws and three large eyes on the top of its head. A bloated, bright green fish with a strange and prickly skin covering it looked poisonous, and the large chunk of seaweed drying out next to them both simply wasn't good at all. Even Zoro didn't have to be some snot-nosed, smart-mouth, stingy-assed cook to know that, having fended for himself his entire life. He had learned to avoid the creatures with bright colors, because they usually upset the stomach if not worse. However, Luffy's belly was made of stronger stuff than his- practically inhuman at what the fool could stuff down his throat and digest safely.

"I wonder if Sanji can make something good with this," Luffy sang aloud, slapping the bottom of his sandals together as he hung dangerously over the edge. Zoro couldn't help a glance over at the kitchen after the bastard's name was mentioned . . . and was rather shocked to see it open. Sanji liked to shut himself up in the galley, away from everyone else so he could cook in peace. It also seemed like everything he did consisted of preparing meals- in a desperate attempt to avoid him, in Zoro's opinion. He had already done his best in actually trying to talk things out, but Sanji still seemed to be upset about one little friendly fuck. Zoro hadn't expected it to mean so much to the blonde . . . or to himself. The awkward air between them was killing him, but he didn't have the slightest clue how to change it.

"So, where is that shitty cook?" Zoro drawled, trying to be casual. Luffy shrugged in his usual, oblivious manner as he turned back to his fishing. Usopp, however, began grinning in a mischievous way that Zoro didn't like very much at all

"You don't know? Did you guys have a fight?" Usopp asked with an arched eyebrow, trying to put some sort of second meaning into his words that Zoro was too tired to follow. He had already wasted all his energy on that damned blonde, allowing himself to get worked up and angry just because Sanji was that fucking good at getting under his skin. Zoro either wanted to punch the smug bastard or screw the living daylights out of him . . . and one had definitely been better than the other. It didn't seem like Sanji agreed with him though, stubbornly hiding from Zoro like he had contracted the plague.

"We're always fighting, you numbskull!" he snapped back, frustrated with the whole deal. He didn't need the others starting to make smart comments as well. He already had gotten his fill from Sanji the last time he'd been stupid enough to try talking with the man. Maybe if the fool would stop making food and actually start eating, he wouldn't have such a sour attitude all the time. Zoro was surrounded by idiots on all sides.

"But, now it's a lover's quarrel . . ." Usopp insinuated with a singsong tone.

"WHAT!" Zoro yelled out, raising up his fist to bash some sense into the skinny smart-ass . . . only to find himself facing empty air as Usopp took off for the other end of the ship. That long-nosed freak sure knew how to run, almost not worth the effort to chase after. Not when he had somehow found out about their little tryst. Zoro prayed that nobody had seen anything, his mind going blank with embarrassment at the thought of it. He turned back around to Luffy in numb resignation; recalling just how big Usopp's mouth was.

"Does everyone already know?" Zoro sighed.

Luffy nodded, his rubber neck making the movement exaggerated.

Zoro grumbled out a few necessary curses as he rested his elbows down on the railing next to his oblivious captain. He watched the fishing line Luffy had cast in the water, trying to collect his thoughts and strategize. Suddenly, everything just made sense. It was no wonder Sanji had been avoiding him if the others had been teasing him. Zoro was already pissed off and it had barely been five minutes since he finally awoke from his perpetual napping. Sometimes, he just hated the rest of his crewmates and the small confines of the ship. Zoro always liked to climb up to the crow's nest on the main mast and sleep up there where he wouldn't be disturbed, far away from everyone else with a fresh breeze that almost made him feel like he was back on open land. Sanji, however, preferred to hole himself up in the kitchen, in the small corner where the stove was, and just cook himself into exhaustion. It usually worked, since everyone on the ship eventually got hungry at some point . . . except things weren't as simple as that anymore. If Zoro went into the galley looking for a meal, Sanji was definitely going to take everything the wrong way. He moaned at the hopelessness of his situation, sinking down further against the railing.

"Zoro, what's wrong?" Luffy asked at last, even a simpleton like him able to understand something was bothering the legendary pirate hunter. Zoro was sick and tired of other people judging and assuming certain things about him without even attempting once to actually talk to him. Mainly Sanji.

"Nothing," Zoro grumbled back automatically. Luffy just made a humming noise at that. He clearly wasn't satisfied with the answer, but knew better than to push the point right now. Sometimes, Luffy was the best person to talk to, even if he was the biggest idiot on the ship. Luffy just somehow understood all of his nakama on a basic, primal level. He admitted that Usopp, Chopper, Nami, Robin, and Sanji were all the type of people that he would have never bothered with before. Since being swindled into this patchwork of a pirate crew, Zoro had learned to tolerate and even appreciate everyone's little idiosyncrasies. He could trust all of them, even if they didn't always get along. It was all thanks to Luffy, who didn't even seem aware of the sort of power he had. Zoro still was unable to explain why he had decided to follow that moron as a captain, especially when they kept getting sucked into another tiring adventure that seemed to serve no other purpose than causing complete chaos at every port they docked in. What was more bizarre was the fact that Zoro stayed around.

"You know . . . if it doesn't work out with Sanji, you and I could always - . . ." Luffy left the rest of it unsaid. Zoro couldn't be more thankful for anything in his entire life. The sheer physics of it made his head hurt. With Luffy being made of rubber, just how could- . . .

No.

He wasn't thinking about it any further.

It was already sick enough that he'd fucked Sanji.

"Thanks, Luffy. I'll tell you when I'm desperate," Zoro waved his idiot captain off, not needing another person to compound his problems. He was already having a hard enough time with Sanji. There was no reason for that blonde to be so damn ill tempered all the time. Even he wasn't that bad, except when someone was trying to interrupt his napping. Zoro didn't even care about the gossip that was probably circulating about their small ship

Luffy made a happy noise that constituted as him saying 'everything's okay, talking time is over' and turned back to his fishing. No hurt feelings, just pure honesty. Despite it all, Luffy was one of the most real people Zoro had ever met. Their captain meant every word he said, no matter how stupid it may sound to others.

Zoro left his captain there, scratching at his hair and left to wonder just when everything had gone to hell. He couldn't particularly recall any grievous errors- in fact; he'd been handling this all rather nicely compared to the fit Sanji was pitching right now. Why couldn't he actually be the cool, jazzy gentleman he faked all the time? Sanji had a wonderful act going on, perfect enough to match his body and face . . . beyond that damn eye. Despite it all, Zoro couldn't help getting the shudders. He had wounds before, had large, hideous scars that would never heal. He just learned to deal with it, and eventually became proud of his battle medals. Zoro would even laugh aloud when Usopp retold their past adventures with his own twisted humor, able to find his past, weak self a pathetic figure to scorn and forget about.

There was nothing to laugh about after seeing that milky-white iris and pupil. Sanji really was blind in his left eye. There was no fucking way that he would be able to see out of it, not with that sort of damage. Sanji was too damn good at pretending in the end, because Zoro had never noticed his disability before. But, now that he thought about it, Zoro could recall when Sanji would walk closely to at least one of their crew when they finally landed; needing to use someone he could trust to gauge distances and thread through a crowd by example. Zoro didn't understand how Sanji had lasted in that floating restaurant they'd first met their cook in, strutting around like he was the owner in the middle of the chaotic dining room. Seeing that disfigured, mutilated eye made Zoro feel guiltier than the fact he nearly fucked the both of them into unconsciousness. He didn't even understand it himself, but he wasn't about to sit around and let it get any worse.

He fucking hated blondes.

Zoro wasn't going to allow Sanji rule his thoughts any more. He no longer cared if that shitty cook was upset for something Zoro didn't even know that he'd done, if Sanji was more sensitive than Zoro had ever imagined, and that he felt goddamn awkward around the man now that he knew Sanji's dirty little secret- not that he was gay, but had that terrible eye hidden under his hair.

Luffy continued to fish obliviously, starting to hum an off-key tune as if to hurry Zoro along. Since Usopp and Luffy didn't know where Sanji was and Zoro wasn't about to ask either of the ladies on board, that left the reindeer. Chopper seemed to get along well with Sanji for some reason . . . hell, he got along with anyone. Even Zoro couldn't come up with any other word than 'cute' for the little freak. Despite having the courage of a mouse, Chopper could easily transform into a tremendously strong ally, or a good enough doctor to stuff organs back into a body and sew it up nice so they wouldn't fall out again. Zoro had to admit he could tell the difference between the dark, jagged old scars healed with home remedies and pure will power, and the clean white lines of the wounds that Chopper had treated. Helplessly, Zoro couldn't help but think back to Sanji's mutilated eye, puckered, milky, blind; the image forever burned into Zoro's mind whether he liked it or not.

Either they were going to have to talk about this or screw again, and both seemed like equally unlikely possibilities. At least he could bet on Sanji trying to play nice in front of Chopper. Nobody liked to fight in front of the worrisome creature, who was so damn sensitive to every little upset . . . and a confrontation was likely to be violent, if things were anything like last time. Zoro simply couldn't understand it, and it was beginning to frustrate him past his limits. Roronoa Zoro didn't spend time thinking about other people's feelings. He was either training, fighting, or napping, and he didn't see a damn thing wrong about it. Sanji was going to have to understand that, if Zoro had to shove a piece of advice right up his snobbish, upturned nose.

Confirming himself again, Zoro strode over to the large cabin door that led to their ship's infirmary, opening without even knocking. He didn't need to, but in retrospect, Zoro wished he had. Nothing would quite prepare him for the sight of Sanji bent over the far countertop with his pants dropped down around his ankles, Chopper standing on a small stool behind those skinny white legs, face-first with Sanji's ass. Zoro's vision tunneled down on those two, so immersed in their business they didn't even notice him frozen in the middle of the open doorway.

"Is it any better?" Chopper questioned Sanji in such a way that Zoro wanted to stomp over and tear the good doctor off of the blonde without further notice. The only problem was that Zoro couldn't even get his eyes to blink away from this waking nightmare. He'd suffered through near-fatal wounds with more grace; absolutely staggered by the morbid scene he'd walked in on.

"Oh, shi- . . . Yeah. Better," Sanji's smoky voice couldn't even make a full sentence because whatever the hell Chopper was doing to his ass was so good. Zoro felt like he'd just walked in on the coldest winter day possible, frozen down to the core. He had been compared to Chopper and found lacking. That childish, naïve reindeer could please Sanji better than him. It defied common sense. How the hell was he supposed to react to something like this? He'd killed people before for less- this was personal and simply too fucked up to face right now.

Zoro turned around, walked out the room, and closed the door behind him so slowly and softly he thought he might be having an out-of-body experience. The clockwork of his mind had shuddered and came to a complete halt, stuck on the memory of Chopper standing behind Sanji and asking how he compared to Zoro in sexual prowess. He could have died out of humiliation on the spot, if it wouldn't have left his corpse there as evidence. Zoro had to distance himself as quickly as possible, all that thinking about making up with Sanji blown away.

He had never been the victim of lovesickness and the resulting jealousy before, and he didn't like it one fucking bit. He found himself evaluating their relationship and noticing at last just how fragile and weak it was. A few hours making love and sleeping together for a while afterward didn't qualify as anything meaningful when compared to the longer history of Sanji and him fighting all the time. Sanji didn't squeal and fall over himself trying to flatter and flirt with Zoro like he did with the other two women on the ship . . . and anything recognizable as female when they landed on shore. Despite all that talk, Zoro ended up being the only one that actually cared about what had happened. Zoro had been serious about having something lasting between them. He obviously hadn't been clear enough if Sanji was already fucking around with the ship's doctor.

"Back again so soon?" Robin asked in a teasing tone as she glanced over the edge of her book, grinning aristocratically from her lawn chair. Zoro paced by her without a second thought, returning to the open deck at the helm of the ship where he wouldn't have any more distractions. Sanji and Chopper would likely be busy for a while longer. Usopp and Luffy were still hauling up all sorts of mysterious creatures from the ocean, Nami was drawing maps somewhere in private away from the general chaos of their lives, and Zoro could depend on Robin to just shut up and keep on reading. He wouldn't be able to handle any sort of communication right now either, made absolutely miserable by Sanji's second choice of bedmates. People, animals, and Devil Fruit freaks were beginning to piss him off in general. Robin was astute enough to see that all in his body language alone, not another word uttered as he breezed past her table.

He had somehow allowed them all to get the upper hand on him when he was undoubtedly the strongest fighter on their ship. Zoro didn't need some monstrous and bizarre Devil Fruit power to beat down his enemies. He wasn't a man to be made out for a fool, as Sanji seemed so bound and determined on doing. That blonde had somehow managed to get underneath his skin and in between him and his self-control. Zoro could barely even think straight when Sanji was around, always drawn into one worthless fight after another. Zoro had thought he'd gotten it all figured out after he finally just screwed that foul-mouthed cook into a nice pile of warm muscle and pliant lips . . .

That wasn't the sort of shit he should be considering when he was trying to stay pissed off at that cheating, lying, half-blind freak!

Immediately Zoro winced and shook his head at his own insensitivity. It wasn't fair to call a man on a disability he could do nothing about- it was like complaining over the fact that Usopp's nose was absurdly long. There was nothing they could do about the bodies they had been born with. The attitude, however, was something that could be messed around with. Sanji had gone from a flexible and yielding lover to a mute, icy bastard in a matter of minutes. Now that Zoro knew there was another side to Sanji, he was beginning to hate the usual front more and more. He didn't care if it would take another hard pounding in the most literal sense to force that vulnerability and openness out of Sanji again. He was going to show Sanji once and for all just who was the best on this ship, be it fighting or fucking. Simple as that.

Zoro took a deep, clearing breath that pushed out all those frivolous thoughts and centered himself. One more to shut out the pounding of the waves against the ship's hull, to close his eyes and feel the true life-force subtly running through everything. His palm dropped to the familiar and worn hilt of the Meitou treasure he'd been entrusted with, running down the leather grip with a touch far softer than any he would use for a lover . . . becoming whole again as he felt his arm and reach meld with the blade until it was a part of his body.

He drew the whole glimmering and razor-sharp length in one explosive motion, dust that had collected on the deck lifting up from the force of his movement and shooting out in a perfect wave.

To anyone else, it would have seemed like a flawless sword technique, but his confusion and turmoil was so obvious in the quivering blade that Zoro became even more disgusted with himself, as if such was possible. He sheathed the named blade, pausing for a moment and then attempting to draw it again. He'd practice as much as it took to blank Sanji completely out and salvage his resolve to become the greatest swordsman in the world.

* * *

There were twelve wooden planks between the floor and the ceiling.

There were forty-eight nails holding the wall together.

There were sixty-four tiles on the counter Sanji was bent over, cold air hitting his bare ass as he waited for Chopper to finish his inspection. His pants and belt were down by his ankles, spread as widely as possible before the pain would start knifing through his gut. Sanji couldn't be more mortified than if he'd been caught singing aloud completely naked. It wasn't like he had much of a choice though. Sanji would have loved to lock himself up in the kitchen and hide out until his wounds . . . or whatever this could be called healed, but he didn't have that sort of luxury right now. Seeing bloodstains on the inside of his underwear had been shocking enough, but the red droplets dissolving in the water of the toilet bowl had nearly made him cry in the midst of his panic. Who the hell would be able to help him this sort of problem? It wasn't like he could talk to the one responsible, not about to let Zoro know he'd been so fragile and delicate that the swordsman had managed to rearrange his internal organs with a few violent thrusts.

Sanji felt tears burn at the corners of his eyes, distantly hearing Chopper apologize yet again as the reindeer stared into his asshole. There was no way to distract himself, overwhelmed with hurt from the inside out. It was so damn hard to stay still, laying half on his stomach as he waited for Chopper to finish the inspection. The ship doctor still had hooves when in his regular, miniature form, cold things that didn't warm up to Sanji's skin as he was poked yet again. He attempted to repress every flinch and shudder that involuntarily went through his body, hating Zoro more and more every second. If it weren't for that arrogant, careless, oblivious bastard, he would have never been in this predicament.

Chopper finally seemed to come to some sort of diagnosis, hoping down from the stool he had used to get eye-level with Sanji's bleeding anus. He trotted off to mix together medicine, explaining what he was about to do while Sanji didn't listen to a word of it. He just wanted to be told that everything would be okay, he could take some kind of pill, sleep it off, and wake up tomorrow morning like nothing had ever happened. If it wasn't for the blinding pain in between his hips that was sparked off by every deep breath and too-quick movement, Sanji wouldn't have had to think about what had happened with him and Zoro at all. Instead, he was miserable, perplexed, and constipated to all hell. He couldn't make sense of Zoro, and he couldn't imagine the reaction if Sanji told him exactly what was going on. He could hardly explain it to Chopper, even though the reindeer was currently his treating physician.

Sanji made fists in the table, clenching his teeth as he tried not to think about anything. All he had to do right now was stay still until Chopper fixed things. Then, he'd probably go right back to the cozy privacy of the galley and finish off a bottle of wine by himself. Why wouldn't Chopper at least give him the dignity of some kind of anesthetic? Sanji would prefer to be unconscious until he could take a shit normally. He couldn't stand this sort of internal pain anymore, a burning fire on the inside of his organs that he could do nothing to relieve. He wouldn't have even come to Chopper unless he was utterly desperate . . . and he'd passed that stage a few hours ago alone in the bathroom with a toilet bowl full of blood. It had taken a while to calm down the tears and the throbbing hurt radiating from his ass, and longer still to muster up the courage to actually tell someone about it; anyone but Zoro. The swordsman would probably laugh at him for being so goddamn dainty and breakable.

"Okay, Sanji, this should help with the pain, first off," Chopper's voice announced behind him. Sanji just clenched his eyes shut, unable to respond, twitching about like a wild animal as he heard Chopper climb back up onto his stool. He bit into the bottom of his lip, concentrating on staying still and calm from now on. That little blue-nosed reindeer was his only hope right now, the silence so strained and heavy that Sanji could hear Chopper applying an unknown medicine to an oversized cotton swab.

Despite his resolve, Sanji flinched against the counter hard enough to bruise when Chopper swiped his anus for the first time. It may be medical treatment, but Sanji was still rather apprehensive when his pants were down on the floor and the doctor was sticking a cotton swab up his rear . . .

. . . and then the cream, ointment, whatever the hell it was kicked in, a tingling numb sensation that worked its way through heated skin to the bruised organs underneath. Sanji's teeth dug down deeper into his bottom lip as Chopper began to generously apply more.

It took everything he had to not moan wantonly like Zoro and him were at it all over again. Sanji's knees went watery and weak with the instant relief, eyes tearing up helplessly as he melted on top of the counter. It was a good thing he was already bent over something, because Sanji didn't think he had the strength to stand up on his own right now.

"Is it any better?" Chopper asked softly, obviously nervous and waiting for Sanji to say that the homemade balm wasn't working. He almost didn't even register the question, digging the back of his thumbs into his eye sockets in an attempt to contain himself. His ass had been pulsating nothing but pure hurt ever since he'd woken up the morning after, and to have that pain be treated so quickly was nothing short of a miracle.

"Oh, shi- . . . Yeah. Better," Sanji tried to sound as cool and distant as possible. One of them had to play it distant and unmoved by this awkward predicament; Sanji just didn't know why it had to be him when he was the one with his bare butt sticking out into the air right now. Chopper was an excellent doctor, nobody would argue that, but he lacked the professional carriage. Sanji supposed it was because Chopper was a reindeer in the end, timid with a fight-or-flight instinct ingrained to the bone.

"Try to relax for this part," Chopper suggested, but Sanji wasn't sure if it was meant for him or the doctor. He gritted his teeth, expecting some sort of pain after that kind of warning. Instead, it was another swab of that wonderfully numbing medicine before Chopper stuck a needle through the edges of torn and broken skin. Sanji could distantly feel cool, smooth hooves pressing on secret inner flesh, amazing deft and tactile as Chopper somehow managed to thread several stitches through the damaged and bleeding walls of his anus. It was better to stay amazed with the creature's skill rather than think about what he was really doing.

At least the numbness was spreading all the way up to his bellybutton and down to his thighs, the procedure barely even registering inside Sanji's head. The burning, cramping ache was finally gone, Sanji's gut rumbling in anticipation of finally being able to release everything that had become backed up in there. Damn Zoro for putting him through this in the first place. He would have never had to go to Chopper for help if Zoro had just used a touch of restraint instead of rutting like a stray dog. To think that he had actually believed in Zoro's little display of comfort and fumbling but kind words. Sanji was so used to complimenting women he came across that he never realized nobody had ever done the same to him . . . not in the simple, honest way Zoro had said that he liked Sanji's hands.

He couldn't understand it at all. He had always taken care of his hands; a chef's livelihood. There were a few knicks along his thumbs and pointer fingers from when he'd still been a clumsy kid struggling just to skin potatoes properly, but his nails were neatly trimmed and kept meticulously clean. He only used his hands to cook- rarely even took them out of his pockets when he was fighting. That shitty old man had gone on about hygiene in the kitchen every single damn day, but Sanji hadn't ever really appreciated it until now. Funny to think that the tense and shaking fists he was making right now were the very same things that made Zoro attracted to him.

"- . . . and we're done with that," Chopper's announcement broke in through his thoughts. Sanji didn't even realize he had been so wrapped up in himself until the reindeer had said something; starting again when Chopper yanked out a needle from his left buttock that Sanji hadn't even noticed going in. Even though Chopper had declared that they were finished with this part of the treatment, Sanji couldn't move as heavy, leaden medication flooded through his veins. It hurt in a different kind of way, like his foot had gone to sleep . . . except this was his ass and his muscles were beginning to relax so much that Sanji was in danger of letting his bowels go while standing there.

He gathered himself up mutely, pulling pants back into place and gingerly doing up the fly; despite Chopper's remedies, his body was still screaming protest at any straining or bending. He buckled his belt a few holes too big, certainly not able to bear anything tight around the hips quite yet. Sanji had to resist the urge to rub his ass; still smarting from whatever Chopper had shot into him. He glared at the back of the small little creature that had just probably saved his life . . . unable to pick up the broken little fragments of his pride off the floor like he had with his pants. It was hard to keep himself from getting angry with Chopper just because the poor guy was the only one around right now. He should really just try to save it all for Zoro, the sole person responsible for this mess.

"Here, take this," Chopper held up a small flask for him. For one eager moment, Sanji thought the doctor had been kind enough to give his patient hard liquor after standing there mutely through the whole embarrassing mess. One sip later, he found himself sputtering and gagging at the bitter, thick syrup hidden inside.

"It's a laxative," Chopper explained, somehow able to blush through a coat of dark brown fur. "It'll help- . . ."

Sanji was already guzzling the rest before Chopper could tell him more, blocking out this horrible conversation, promising himself a real drink and a few cigarettes after he escaped from the room.

Sweat was dripping into his eyes, but he didn't even blink. Motionless, breathless, poised like the fine, razor sharp edge of the Meitou. Both hands on the hilt, quietly staring out into the white fog that tinged his surroundings with the ever-unpredictable weather of the Grand Line. Moisture was collecting on the shining metal of the blade, the small droplets not even shaking with the incredible control he held over the katana. Absolutely perfect form and nothing else.

Zoro swung down one more time, cutting the air hard enough to blow away the fog that was covering the helm and peel the paint off the railing caught in the path of the dispersed force. It was finally good enough for him to sheathe the blade and relax . . . his arms and legs becoming heavy as exhaustion set in immediately. He didn't know how long he had been practicing with Kuina's katana as he slid it back into place by its two little brothers. It had been enough for him to work up quiet a sweat as Zoro became aware of the minor discomforts of his body. He had already tossed his shirt off a while ago when it became soaked with perspiration and started to hinder his movements. Now that he had stopped moving around, the cold and wet air hit him like a slap in the face. Zoro couldn't even see past the main mast, not noticing how thick the fog had become while he'd been concentrating on his sword work.

He decided he liked it better out here, in a little bit of privacy made possible by the crazy weather on the Grand Line. Zoro threw himself down into one of the chairs at the table Robin had been sitting at . . . he had been aware of her presence leaving, that peculiar air that all humans had about them fading away to leave Zoro in a completely undistracted state. He just didn't know when it had been, the flow of time lost to him after repetitively executing one-sword techniques that required deep focus and attention. He was quite ready for a nap, not even sure what had gotten him so worked up in the first place. It was nice to have such a release through exercise, gaining a thorough weariness that went all the way down to his bones . . . too damn tired to really think about anything at all.

He threw his feet up on the table, leaning back over the chair with full intention of taking a na- . . .

"Yo, Zoro! Did you and Sanji make up, or are you still free?" Luffy's voice immediately broke the comfortable silence as Zoro's captain came wandering out of the fog in his usual, oblivious state. He glared at the smiling idiot, hating Luffy for reminding him of that shitty cook. Just where did Sanji get off ignoring him after they had been so intimate? Selfish, blonde bastard.

"Have you _seen_ Sanji talk to me lately?" Zoro spat back bitterly, not even expecting Luffy to catch the sarcasm. He was answered with a negative shake of Luffy's head as the rubber man sat down in the opposite chair. Zoro felt like he was caught in a staring match with a child; those blank, black eyes not giving away anything as they simply absorbed the world around him. It was pure insanity that Zoro honestly thought Luffy was one man who could fight him on a equal level . . . sometimes the desire to truly prove just who was strongest burned so badly that their fellow crewmates had to break the two of them up. He knew Luffy felt the same, the simple and mute understanding between them so much easier than that awful fuck-up of whatever Zoro and Sanji had.

"So, what's gonna happen? 'Cause my offer still stands," Luffy mentioned it yet again, as if he hadn't already made it obvious enough that he was ready and willing at any moment. Hell, Zoro could probably screw Luffy right there on the table and the idiot wouldn't even care. The only problem was he simply respected Luffy too much to take the risk . . . and would feel like a filthy pedophile taking advantage of their terribly slow and naïve captain. No matter what his age, Luffy was no better than a three-year-old in some aspects.

"Do me a favor and shut up about that already," Zoro snapped back, wearied at the thought of dealing with Sanji and Luffy at the same time. He didn't like complex manners, hated having to talk about such obscure things as emotions. Zoro didn't reflect on himself, he just moved forward with unwavering devotion. It was that sort of passion had first drawn him to Luffy and his determination to becoming the Pirate King. Nobody had ever been able to stifle that dream- or defeat Luffy in a bare fisted fight down to the last man standing.

"_Zooooroooo_, you're no fun lately!" he complained, whining and thumping his fists down on the table. Zoro groaned and threw his head back over the chair, utterly weak under the onslaught of Luffy's full attention. All he wanted was a few minutes alone to forget about his troubles, but instead he got them shoved right up his nose.

"There you are! Luffy, why is the bathroom door broken again!" Usopp screeched as he came charging up the stairs, the fog seeming to cling to that ridiculous hair of his. He spared a single glance in Zoro's direction before slamming his fist into the back of their captain's head. It only sent that indestructible, thick skull ricocheting around on Luffy's stretchable neck. He put a hand on the back of his hat to hold it down and steady himself before turning around to argue with Usopp.

"But, I really had to go and it was in the way-. . . " Luffy began to plead his case while Zoro sighed tiredly.

"Everyone _else_ manages to open the door without a problem!" Usopp screeched out predictably while their captain began to hunch his shoulders underneath the berating. Zoro could almost feel sorry for the guy; but it wasn't Nami yelling at Luffy.

"Idiot!" Usopp added on, as if he had meant to have it in the first sentence but had only now remembered to use it. Luffy mumbled something about being sorry while Usopp began to list the damages Luffy had caused to Going Merry since they had left the last port, each item visible bringing their captain down further. Luffy finally began to defended himself, trying to give explanation for why he'd fallen through the deck, lower level, and barely stopped before going through the bottom of the hull. It was simply a bad mix of monstrous strength and indestructibility coupled with terrible clumsiness, Luffy managing to trip over pure air at times.

Zoro was already tuning them out, determined not to get involved unless the two started physically fighting and he would have to pull them apart. All he wanted now was the sweet oblivion of a nice, long nap . . .

He smelled cigarette smoke, even more invasive than the yelling competition on the other side of the table that Usopp and Luffy were engaging in. The arm sliding over his shoulder was definitely in his personal space, along with the particular warmth of another person pressing against his bare back. Usopp and Luffy both went mute and still at the sight of Sanji being so utterly obvious and deliberate- the way he usually was around the girls.

Zoro glanced up at the shitty cook so close to him, as if the he _hadn't _been all but outright running away before. He could only see the elegant curve of chin and blonde hair falling into his face. He shouldn't be taking notice of Sanji's loose tie along with the skin that was revealed by that loose collar. Zoro should have gotten up from the table and given Sanji the same cold treatment he'd been dishing out before.

Instead, he sat there in the same sort of dumb stupor that had taken over Usopp and Luffy as well while Sanji mutely placed a freshly cooked meal down in front of him. Both dishes were steaming in the wet and cold air, the aroma good enough to fill a man's stomach. Zoro stared down at thin, well-cooked pieces of fish that had already been deboned and marinated in a dark brown sauce, obviously taken from the earlier fishing . . . and a slab of the precious, salted red meat that had preserved, stored, _and _somehow survived through Luffy's constant kitchen raids. Zoro couldn't help but raise up an eyebrow, wondering just what had sparked this impromptu gesture. It couldn't be that Sanji had suddenly realized what a snobbish ass he'd been and was trying to apologize. He had too much pride for that.

Zoro was left floundering and speechless, rather at a loss as how to react. He had been just fine with that justified anger and jealousy before- now he was just confused. He just wanted to backhand the shitty cook, but couldn't even figure out why. Sanji disengaged himself just as casually as he'd come, his hand trailing along Zoro's shoulder and squeezing so subtly that no one watching would see anything strange. It was enough to send a chill down his spine, fidgeting about nervously in his chair as Sanji finally backed off to his usual distance.

"Wow, Sanji, how did you know we were hungry?" Usopp asked, a dirty hand reaching across the table to grab at the food. It was slapped away with unnerving accuracy while at the same time; Sanji grabbed Luffy's wrist with his other hand. He effectively blocked the both of them from even drooling on the table, tossing the two idiots back like stray animals.

"There's scraps in the kitchen that are good enough for you shitheads!" Sanji snapped out in his characteristically sour way, but there was a little more heat in it than necessary. It was clearly a vague threat to get the hell out of the general area, abruptly territorial- but he only acted that way around the girls. Zoro was still the only one at the table. Usopp seemed to notice that something wasn't quite right with the situation, massaging his hand that was already turning red from the force of Sanji's slap, while Luffy took off for the galley, leaving a trail in the fog behind him. Usopp sighed in defeat, shuffling off after his captain before Sanji said anything more.

"Well, what the hell is this all about?" Zoro demanded gruffly, not about to show that he was affected in any manner. Sanji didn't have that sort of power over him, certainly not just because of one night.

The blonde didn't even answer him, strolling around Zoro's side of the table in a way that demanded a man's full attention. Like a magician making his entrance onto the stage, Sanji turned around once and suddenly there was a bottle of wine set down in front of him. Zoro just watched quietly as clean, trim fingernails picked off the wax seal around the cork; long, white hands working the neck of the bottle in way that made Zoro think terrible, awful things about what else Sanji could be doing with that exact motion.

"_Monsieur? _Is there a problem?" the blonde asked in a low, smoky voice that was pure sin. His hand didn't stop; instead, it became more deliberate as Sanji played around with a corkscrew. The wine bottle went between his thighs as Sanji popped the cork in one quick jerk. Then, he was pouring a glass for Zoro and holding it out for him, making Zoro wonder just what else the cook had managed to hide in that apron. Zoro looked up despite the intelligent part of him was screaming to stop, into that amused smirk and curly eyebrow raised up suggestively . . .

. . . and realized Sanji was flirting with him.

Zoro didn't even really care to understand it. He was too damn tired to think about this any more. He took the glass with as much grace as could be mustered in a situation like this, set it down carefully, and immediately snapped his hand out to grab Sanji by his necktie. The cook had the sense of mind to grab his cigarette away to safety before Zoro dragged the moody blonde down to his mouth, kissing him hard. There was no chance for the other man to run away now when Zoro finally had made a solid leash to Sanji. Mouths opened, tongues beginning wrestle, and he st- . . .

"Stop! Stop right there!" Chopper yelled out, his hooves making loud clicks on the deck as he came rushing up the stairs.

Zoro didn't have words, that jealousy and angry part of him sparked off all over again. He literally growled at the reindeer, sure the creature would be able to understand the basic meaning as he grabbed Sanji around the waist and hauled the shitty cook down onto his lap. Sanji laughed aloud at the rough handling, arm falling down around his shoulders before the back of thin, muscular thighs landed on him. Sanji was a welcome and warm weight, almost like a cat that was actually being friendly for once, and Zoro wasn't about to let things end any time soon. Zoro didn't even mind the stink of cigarette smoke as Sanji nonchalantly took another drag so close to his face, just tightened his hold possessively as he turned all his frustration onto Chopper.

"What the fu- . . ." Zoro started, determined to get an explanation for things _and _make it very clear who was going to sleep with whom.

"Sanji! I specifically _told_ you not to smoke or drink for the rest of the day. That was powerful medication!" Chopper shrieked, completely ignoring Zoro. He blinked at the doctor, all his bravado sizzling down at the cold reaction. Usually the reindeer was so polite and high-strung, but right now he looked rather serious and concerned. As the little shit should be, after messing around with Sanji and then finding the blonde literally all over _him_. Zoro decided to smile victoriously instead, quite certain that Sanji had simply tested new waters- and had come crawling back on his knees to Zoro.

"I'm fine, _okay_? You don't need to worry any more, you did a great job," Sanji sighed, waving a hand as he casually complimented Chopper. Well, that easily blew his theory to hell, neither of the culprits even noticing Zoro's internal struggle. There were so many mixed messages going on right now that he was beginning to feel like he was losing his mind.

"But, if you do something like . . . like _that _again," Chopper stammered, his big, brown eyes watering up with tears. It took a harder man than Zoro to remain unmoved at the sight of the little stuffed animal; but the pain of seeing the reindeer and his temperamental cook together was still too fresh for Zoro to ignore. Sanji grumbled as if to make up for the both of them, a few curse words uttered out from underneath his breath, but Zoro definitely caught 'not that bad' and 'didn't last long.'

"I swear I'm gonna kill the both of you if you keep talking about it!" Zoro yelled aloud, quite pissed that they dared to be so open about what had happened. He couldn't stand the sight of Sanji starting to blush, even though he had both arms around the cook's skinny waist. Despite tightening his grip possessively, hard enough to bruise, he couldn't be closer to Sanji and yet was so far away. Zoro had been completely disregarded, ignored and tossed aside while Chopper and Sanji did things together that a reindeer and human shouldn't. Hadn't the shitty cook been so worried about Zoro only wanting a quick fuck before moving along? Zoro had been so desperate to prove that he was serious- only to have the whole thing flipped around on him as Sanji cheated on _him_.

"What! You're the one responsible for it all in the first place!" Chopper yelled aloud, stomping his hooves on the floor in outrage. Zoro just stared down at the creature, not sure what the problem was in the first place. Whenever he thought that he had figured it out, everything got reversed. Sanji stiffened in shock, mouth open wide to fire back something smart.

"Y- You're cruel and selfish! Sanji was bleeding down there, and now you want to make it happen again! Just try to mess up my patient!" the reindeer bellowed out, despite not even standing taller than the table they were fighting around. Zoro's jaw dropped so hard it hurt, left staring at the ferocity in those words. _He _had hurt Sanji that badly? Zoro couldn't imagine that he had been that rough, or that Sanji was that fragile. Even so, Chopper was glaring up at him with enough anger to make a lesser man jump overboard just to escape; while Sanji turned his face into Zoro's neck in a fit of embarrassment.

"Thanks a whole fucking lot, _Doctor_. Next time, just give him a full, written report," Sanji grumbled out, his face hidden, but the tone enough to make Chopper step back. Zoro couldn't figure out why Sanji would have tried to hide something so tremendous. He usually complained as loudly as possible about the most trivial of matters. If Zoro had truly made Sanji bleed from his anus, he certainly would have heard about it before now. Even so, the accusations flying about were enough to make his head spin, pretty sure that it all ended up with him being the bad guy.

"I'm . . . sorry?" Zoro hesitantly tossed the apology out there, not sure if it was the right thing to do or not. It _felt_ like it was necessary at the time, consciously loosening his hold around Sanji's stomach. Chopper just blinked up at him like the good doctor hadn't even noticed that Zoro was a separate being from the chair he was on. Sanji just moaned aloud, digging into the pocket on his apron for a fresh cigarette and matches. He popped the wrapped tobacco into his mouth, leaning around Zoro's shoulders so he could use both hands to strike the match.

"We're _not _talking about this any more. There's nothing to apologize about- . . ."

A brown streak leapt up so quickly that Sanji and Zoro both didn't have time to react, stealing away the cigarette before the cook even had a chance to light up."You're not going to smoke or drink anything more today!" Chopper ordered out firmly in a voice that was no less frightening for the small creature it was coming from. Sanji jaw dropped hard, his hand opening and closing around the cigarette that wasn't there any more. The blonde was too shocked at the audacity to do anything for a moment, like the calm gathering before the storm.

"_Damn it_, Chopper, I feel _fine_. I can do as I please," Sanji spat it out so hard Zoro thought he might have to put a hand over the cook's dirty little mouth. No matter what the argument, no matter how jealous and angry Zoro was with Chopper right now, it still was plain cruel to yell at the reindeer. He was easily startled and ended up getting his feelings hurt more often then not, just a simple forest animal that had ended up on a pirate ship. Nami had yelled his ears off countless times before because he had somehow managed to make Chopper cry again. Zoro wasn't sure exact what he was doing wrong, and didn't care to change whatever little flaw it might be in his personality for _anyone_. He had, however, got the common sense necessary for dealing with Chopper beaten into his head by their navigator.

"I-If you want to act that way, then . . . then don't come to me for help again!" the reindeer shot out, obviously upset with his disobedient patient. The only problem with his argument was that they all knew Chopper wouldn't deny medical treatment to anyone that needed it. Sanji just twisted his head away like some kind of goddamn royalty, glaring up into the sky at nothing in particular. His fingers were twitching on Zoro's shoulders, playing around with the matches in a poor attempt to hide his irritation. Zoro was wise enough to just stay silent at this point and let these two fight as much as they wanted too. At least Sanji was still in his lap while whatever had happened between the doctor and him began crumbling.

Zoro didn't like it when he got so worked up, not able to rein in his own temper at times. He was just so used to drawing his sword and killing men for the slightest insult. That had all changed when Luffy became his captain, a naïve simpleton that couldn't even be trusted to walk in a straight line. It didn't help that Zoro lacked a sense of direction as well, the two of them wandering around with one common goal: to become the best in world. Whether as a swordsman or a Pirate King, if they succeeded or died trying. It was that sort of clear-cut logic that Zoro was attracted too, because it was easy enough to understand. It had been a little of a surprise to have Luffy stop him the first time Zoro had tried to kill some punk in a restaurant for interrupting their meal. It had been all right to beat the would-be bounty hunter into unconsciousness, but Luffy didn't want to kill anyone unless absolutely necessary. The idiot captain could back that resolve up, stronger than most men could even imagine. Luffy had managed to change Zoro, break down his defense without seeming to try at all; bringing him back to something that was human, a person that actually felt emotions instead of a numb zombie that only reacted when a weapon was pointed at him.

There was a tug on Zoro's waistband, a small hoof asking for his attention.

"You have to promise me you'll keep an eye on Sanji . . ." Chopper whispered softly just for Zoro, Sanji too busy cursing under his breath to listen to them. " . . . _And you'll be _careful_ not to do anything bad to him!_" the last part was hissed out with more force than one would expect from such a small creature. Zoro was left with his mouth hanging open, leaning to the side with nothing to say to the doctor.

Chopper was already prancing off again before Zoro could think so something to say, left hanging onto Sanji in an awkward, intimate way. He didn't understand just what was so 'bad' about all of this, or how everything could have possibly been entirely his fault. Sanji had been a little freaked out, granted, but he hadn't once told Zoro to stop. He already knew from experience that Sanji wouldn't have just stayed quiet if Zoro had really hurt him . . . but the cook had been avoiding him like the live creatures Luffy had dragged up on deck from his earlier fishing. That was a simple enough way to avoid any sort of interaction at all, and Zoro couldn't say he appreciated the gesture.

"All right, just what is this all about?" Zoro demanded when Chopper's presence was truly gone, the fog covering the rest of the ship as if they were the only two left on board. There was no wind in the sails; the sound of waves slapping against the ship barely enough to cause distraction from the uncomfortable silence.

"_Nothing_," Sanji dismissed it all bitterly with a wave of his hand. "You know how Chopper overreacts."

The shitty cook seemed quite content to write it all off as a bad joke, something to be quickly forgotten. Zoro couldn't accept that answer so easily though, not when he had been made out into some horrible villain- and by _Chopper_, of all people and animals alike! That timid little reindeer couldn't hold a grudge if his life depended on it, which only increased Zoro's feeling of guilt. It was just made worse by the fact that Zoro didn't even know just what the _hell _he had been accused of!

"He overreacts, but he doesn't threaten. You're _going _to tell me," Zoro demanded. He vaguely remembered that he was the one who had been cheated on, that had been ignored and brushed aside like some nosy idiot that didn't know his place. He just didn't get why Sanji and Chopper seemed to have the right to harass him to no ends, even though anyone else would agree that Zoro had done nothing wrong. He'd been the one first betrayed here when Sanji had let Chopper play around with his ass barely a day after Zoro had.

"Whatever. It's none of your fucking concern," Sanji spat back, digging into his apron for yet another cigarette. Sanji had no idea how lucky he was to have that pretty face and delicate fingers, otherwise Zoro would have knocked the shithead straight overboard. How could it not be his concern, when everyone was accusing him of doing . . . something that he didn't even know he had done? Zoro didn't know what to do beyond physical violence as Sanji readied himself another stick of tobacco.

"Chopper said not to smoke any more," Zoro finally snapped out, looking for anything to fight over. He copied Chopper's early move, reaching out for the cancer stick before Sanji could make use of it.

"So! I _need _it right now," Sanji growled out, dodging Zoro's hand while struggling to light a match at the same time. He caught Sanji on the second try, grabbing one wrist so hard that the cook immediately dropped the cigarette. Sanji was no longer resting pleasantly on top of his lap, but struggling to get up with one clawed, free hand and both legs. Zoro had a hard enough time just avoiding the blows and keeping a hold on the shitty cook.

A loose, wide kick hit underneath the table, flipping it over and tossing the fine meal onto the deck in a crash of silverware and broken dishes. Sanji may be deceptively thin, but he had a ridiculously powerful fighting technique. Even mis-aimed, the kick was strong enough to unbalance the chair and sent Sanji tumbling down to the deck with Zoro not far behind. He landed on his shoulder and was rolling up onto his legs without a second thought, naturally adapting into a fighting stance.

Sanji didn't do the same, crying out sharply when his backside hit hard wood. The blonde started hissing out a train of muted and obviously pained curses, curling up protectively around an injury Zoro couldn't see. That sort of reaction made Zoro freeze up, eventually reach out with his hand to check if Sanji was okay. He didn't even touch the cook before the blonde flinched away hard, his voice losing coherency and turning into weak pants. Sanji's good eye was dilated and panicked, not even focusing on what was around him, just shuddering like an animal that had been beaten too hard. One and one slowly came together while Zoro stared down at the blonde, shaking hard from something that went beyond mere bodily pain.

"Someone hurt you before?" Zoro asked stupidly, breaking the awful silence between them. Sanji hissed at the unexpected questioned, not loosening his guard in the slightest as gave one weak nod underneath the fold of crossed arms and tousled hair.

"Someone . . . raped you?" He didn't like the word, but Zoro couldn't think of anything else. That faintly sick feeling in his gut only intensified when Sanji nodded again, accompanied by a definite hitch in his breath. Zoro had hit the problem dead on; taking into account all the times Sanji avoided personal contact despite being an incurable flirt. How he had begged Zoro to stay afterward, just to be sure it wasn't some shameful mistaken between the both of them.

"Did _I _hurt you?" Zoro had to ask. He was the one responsible for this all, just like Chopper had said. Zoro had never thought that there was all this past history and misery inside Sanji, not when the blonde had seemed so experienced with it all. He had told Zoro he wasn't a virgin as if it was some sort of dare to be better than lovers past. Zoro had never once imagined if Sanji's previous sexual encounters had not been of his own choice- someone had managed to force themselves on him. Zoro wanted to kill the person that had come before him, that had fucked Sanji up so badly . . . except _he _was the closest and most recent encounter. He'd been the last one to make Sanji feel that sort of pain. Zoro suddenly couldn't even understand how Sanji could even be talking about this, not when he was so disgusted with himself. Zoro usually had so much better control than _this._

"Not bad. It was only until after that I . . . had problems and I had to go to Chopper," Sanji explained, obviously uncomfortable with the whole matter but recovering from his initial fall to the floor. At least Sanji had stopped shaking . . . as _much_, still unable to look Zoro in the face. He found his fists buried in the front of Sanji's apron, physically hauling the cook up so he could yell straight into the blonde's face.

"'Problems?' _'After_?' Why didn't you say anything _during_ it! I made you bleed, for crying out loud!" Zoro cried out, quoting Chopper's earlier outbursts. If anyone else on the ship hadn't known what was going on, they were sure to now after Zoro had finished screaming. It was the only thing that was keeping him from actually slapping Sanji or himself, so damn ashamed and guilty that Zoro didn't know why neither of them hit the other.

"How the hell else is it supposed to go? When do you _not _bleed while fucking?" Sanji roared right back, butting his forehead up against Zoro's own. The blow didn't pain Zoro nearly as much as the simple obliviousness in that statement. What was there to argue with there? How could Sanji have been so thoroughly abused that he thought it was the norm? How could he be such a hopeless romantic when the shitty cook had been panicking because of an intimate embrace? Zoro hated Sanji in that instant, for always being so secretive, determined to play it cool, and only getting hurt deeper for it all.

It wasn't fair that he could look so damn cute at the same time.

"Let me show you," Zoro insisted, sliding down to kiss Sanji across open lips. If there was any further argument, it turned into tongue play as Zoro grabbed the back of Sanji's head and held him there. It wasn't about being forceful, but just keeping Sanji there as he tried to start things all over again. The fog made as good of cover as any, the deck worn down smooth and kept lovingly clean by Usopp. Zoro had had sex in much worse places with less than trustworthy partners, usually caught in between hunting down bounties. Zoro certainly hadn't met someone he cared enough about to actually spend the time on like with Sanji. The knowledge that someone had been there before that had messed Sanji up so badly, that Zoro had only perpetuated that violence, made him all the more determined to show Sanji how things _should_ be done.

It would be a matter of restraint, of holding back the aggressive strength he had worked his entire life to develop. Zoro had to be conscious of just how much pressure he was using- that he absolutely would _not _bruise Sanji this time. He wouldn't let the blonde run away either, sucking hard on the blonde's lower lip.

It took tricky maneuvering to get Sanji to lie down on his back again without falling on top of the shitty cook. He ended up settling between Sanji's legs, resting all of his weight on his knees as they ground into the deck uncomfortably. Zoro ignored it in favor of making sure not to hover over Sanji _too _much. He couldn't afford making the blonde feel restrained right now, sure that the guy was ready to run at the slightest mishandling. Sanji was shaking like it; muscles wound up so taunt that they were going to break.

"Don't be scar-. . ." Zoro murmured against Sanji's hair, not wanting this to start off on the wrong foot, _again_.

"Oh, will you fucking give it a break? I'm not as weak as you like to think!" Sanji yelled out, interrupting the nice, polite gesture Zoro had been trying to make. His eyes didn't even register the palm heading at his face; his body instinctively reacting to catch Sanji by the wrist before the blonde could manage to slap him. He couldn't move after that, fist wrapped around Sanji's arm with the cook glaring up at him, all the more frightening for his sudden silence.

Zoro look over to the open hand in his grip, knowing damn well how soft and smooth they were, that Sanji always kept them clean with fingernails trimmed down neatly instead of the ragged edges Zoro would chew off when they got too long. Sanji's glare turned to outright shock when Zoro hauled that white hand up to his mouth, wanting the personal contact more than anything else. It didn't seem like words were getting him very far anyway, deciding he preferred the sex over the fighting.

Sanji couldn't even move as Zoro nuzzled his hand like a stray dog, sniffing it once as any animal would do before licking a sloppy trail across his palm, then physically shoving his face into Sanji's hand to force him to pet. The man could be so obliviously cold and then overwhelmingly affectionate the next, not even allowing Sanji a moment to catch up with what was going on.

He had just come out here with the intent to set everything straight between them; maybe even apologize. After drowning himself in several glasses of that cheap ale they kept on hand for Zoro and Nami, Sanji found his mood turning rather charitable. A few embarrassing minutes alone in the bathroom and a couple cigarettes later, Sanji felt like dancing and singing aloud. The relief of finally having his body back to normal was predictably short-lived when the alcohol finally hit, making him vaguely remember Chopper saying something about strong medication.

Sanji should have known better than to just ride with the slight nausea and head rush, should have just gone to bed for the rest of his life instead. But, he had been caught up in thinking about how horrified and shocked Chopper had been at the damage Zoro had accidentally caused . . . and how the idiot had stayed afterward, had even hunted him down and kept him from trying to freeze himself on deck last night. He knew in his heart of hearts that Zoro wouldn't have intentionally tried to hurt him- in _that _kind of situation, since they regularly ended up in brawls that would leave lesser man with broken bones. Zoro had been sincere and deserved better than the outright avoiding and ignoring that Sanji had been so desperately performing. All of a sudden there was time to think, alone in his kitchen where Zoro had started this whole mess . . . and eventually came to the conclusion that he didn't hate the swordsman as much as he thought he did.

Or, maybe it was the alcohol talking.

Either way, Sanji wasn't going to solve anything sitting by himself and smoking another cigarette that he shouldn't have had. He was going to have to speak to Zoro again one of these days, so it might as well be sooner rather than look like even more of an ass for acting so morose any longer. The only problem was coming up with some excuse to talk, not as comfortable as he had once been with the swordsman. Sanji found himself out of any witty comments or smart ideas, leaving cooking as his only means once again. Sanji figured that food would be as good of conversation starter as any, since it might even get Zoro to shut up for a while if he was busy chewing. Then, Sanji would have a chance to explain himself and terrible awkwardness that was growing between them.

He certainly hadn't expected that plan to explode in his face quite so spectacularly, both of them ending up falling to the deck with Zoro on top. The sudden impact and aggressive intrusion of his personal space sent Sanji spiraling off into memories he would much rather forget. It was hard to concentrate on reality when his past was trying to swallow him whole . . . and then Zoro had begun making out with his palm.

It was a strange gesture, lips ticklish on Sanji's hand, so bizarre that it made him forget to be scared. He wasn't sure if he should be confused or terrified, remembering how Zoro had complimented him before about his hands. Sanji should have been able to fire off some hot comment about how stupid Zoro was for thinking someone might actually be turned on by this. He should have been able to push Zoro away and laugh in the man's face. A hundred thousand other options, and Sanji ended up moaning as the willpower left his arm. He wouldn't move ever again until Zoro wanted him to- completely blanking on the fact that he should hate the man's guts as Zoro began to work at the knot on his apron. That turned into the loosening of his belt and his fly being pulled open before Sanji had the sense of mind to protest, realizing that once again he was being stripped down while Zoro kept his own pants on.

The swordsman was just too damn good at reading body language, able to pick up on the slightest change of muscles. Zoro was already kissing him before Sanji could complain, fingers threading through his hair in a way that was totally unfamiliar. It felt more like Zoro was worshipping every inch of him; petting, licking, and sniffing at each limb and joint. He was setting off some sort of electric shock underneath Sanji's skin, interrupting coherent thought before it could even begin. How such an absentminded brute had gotten so good at kissing, Sanji couldn't possibly imagine.

Despite it all, Sanji found himself surrendering without much of a fight, mouth opening up to let Zoro's tongue in. Zoro didn't have to say anything, just somehow convinced Sanji's body that everything would be alright even though his head was still running around in panicked circles. He still had a hollow ache emanating from his bowels and painful muscle twinges leftover from the last time Zoro had gotten affectionate. The swordsman really couldn't hold back his strength one bit- though Sanji finally noticed Zoro's arms were trembling from effort. He _was _holding himself incredibly still over Sanji, making sure that the only thing touching were their lips. He was aware of Sanji's paranoia and compensating for it, somehow making it all the more erotic.

It just wasn't fair that Zoro was so damn good at this.

The difference in their lives was staggering. Zoro was able to be patient and take his time, so much more mature when it came to adult relationships. For all the flirting and dirty talk Sanji could make, actual sex was still something to be feared and avoided. At least with women, there were no threatening appendages that could be thrust into his body. Sanji would always be able to overpower them, though he remained strictly gentlemanly with all the courtesy and respect that had never been allowed him.

Zoro, however, had already proved that he could wrestle Sanji down to the ground twice. As much as it galled him to admit it, the muscle-brained swordsman was physically stronger than him. He simply practiced more, _always _lifting weights or training with his swords . . . which didn't explain why Zoro could make his hands be so soft as well, the apron loose and his shirt already untucked as Zoro caressed his stomach. Sanji didn't know if he should complain about the intimate touching or the bruising force Zoro was applying to his mouth, ending up unable say anything at all. Zoro's fingers were already slipping down past his belt and inside his underwear without any hesitation, encircling his dick and squeezing hard enough to make Sanji's head snap back in a sudden surge of white-hot sensation.

Now that the kiss had finally ended, Sanji could pant out a weak plead to stop . . . which Zoro ignored, of course. For all his talk, Zoro was still acting like every other 'lover' he had before. He shouldn't have expected any different, his apron and shirt stripped away at last even though Sanji did his best to keep them. Zoro hugged him afterward, petting Sanji's head and making a hushing noise in his ear. Sanji couldn't understand why Zoro would suddenly go back to being gentle and comforting; until he became aware of his own voice repeating 'no . . . no . . . _no . . ."_

Just because he was partially naked, he could be sent into such a panic. Sanji was usually able to control himself better, to hide these sort of emotional collapses to when he was sure that he was alone. Zoro, however, had recently stirred up memories that Sanji had spent his life trying to forget. He wanted to be stronger than this, but his body still remembered the trauma he'd suffered before. It instinctively wanted to get away, the urge so overwhelming that it made Sanji's heart jump up his throat. He couldn't keep himself from shaking, trembling in Zoro's arms while the swordsman continued to smooth his hair.

"It's just me. It's okay," Zoro swore in a soft voice before licking the curve of his ear. Sanji squirmed against the warm, wet thing swirling around; his gut clenching at the unfamiliar sensation. Zoro moved sunk, kissing the corner of his jaw before licking the side of his neck. Sanji grit his teeth, realizing now that Zoro wasn't going to stop unless Sanji fought so hard it turned into a life-or-death situation- and he just wasn't fucking up to struggling any more. He was weary, aching, and drugged up to the gills. He was in no shape to keep Zoro from doing what he wanted . . .

And, it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Zoro kissing the indent of his collarbone felt slightly good. The sickening feeling in his stomach was slowly turning into a warm excitement, with Zoro beginning to thumb one nipple. Sanji would have thought that sort of thing would only feel good on girls, but whatever Zoro was doing to his chest was damn nice. Sanji chewed on his lower lip, determined not to open his mouth because he didn't know what would come out, either tears or wanton moaning. He forgot about being scared, about how he had been shaking so badly only moments ago; just grabbed on to the back of Zoro's head and held the swordsman close.

Sanji admitted to loving the feel of Zoro's short hair, rubbing his palm opposite the flow so the hairs would bristle against his fingers. Zoro grunted his approval while sucking hard on Sanji's nipple, encouraging him to continue. Sanji, however, was still too painfully inexperienced to do anything else. He wanted to be more than a semi-willing partner in this, but Zoro had taken complete control long ago. The man finished unfastening Sanji's belt and pants, pulling them over his knees in one smooth motion. Sanji got one more pert, reassuring kiss on the lips before Zoro ducked his head down into his exposed crotch; earrings chiming as they hit up against each other.

Zoro put his mouth over the tip of Sanji's penis. Immediately, he jerked back at contact on sensitive flesh, so hard that Zoro had to put both hands on Sanji's hips to keep him steady. Sanji hissed sharply through his teeth, forcing himself to _stop _freaking out while Zoro was being so intimate. The swordsman had already spent so much time working Sanji up to this point . . . to have it all end right now would be pure torture for the both of them. At least for _him_, with Zoro licking the length of his shaft from top to bottom.

Sanji was hopelessly erect now, breath coming faster as he arched up toward Zoro's skilled tongue and mouth. He didn't care about much of anything after that, lost in the moment and the jumbled mess Zoro was making of his nerves. Sanji couldn't care less about everything Zoro had done lately, from pounding his insides hard enough to bleed to bringing back the memories of childhood trauma . . . while their relationship still had much to be defined, it was enough for Zoro to fondle his balls without any hesitation. He kept one hand on Sanji's side; able to sense that Sanji would jerk against all and any unexpected contact uncontrollably. Being completely motionless was quickly a necessity as Zoro opened his mouth wide, swallowing Sanji's dick whole.

He cried out at that, knees jerking against Zoro's sides as he did his best not to choke the swordsman. It would be his own damn fault, for doing something so disgusting and shameless. Sanji was sure that Zoro didn't usually put his lips to other men's cocks, having far too much pride for the mere idea to even be a bad joke. But, here they were with Sanji hitting the back of Zoro's throat . . . the man humming slightly before sucking hard enough for Sanji to see fuzzy, gray stars. He grabbed at Zoro's shoulders, _needing _that warm contact while the man's head bobbed up and down over his groin. He had to hold on to something before he exploded, the careful composition of his personality about to break apart. Sanji heard his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, the helpless moans Zoro evoked each time he varied the pressure of his wet, velvety mouth, earrings chiming like bells underneath it all.

Sanji ejaculated so hard it brought tears to his eyes, head slamming against the deck as his spine curved out to its limit. Zoro gagged reflexively, snapping his head away while sperm flew out it seemingly endless streams of white . . . Sanji had never had such a powerful climax before, left twitching on the deck like an animal on it's death throws. He had long since lost the willpower to move his limbs of his own according, watching Zoro in dreadful apprehension now that it was all over.

The swordsman didn't say anything at first, cum still splattered on the side of his cheek and dripping out from the corners of his lips. Sanji was suddenly filled with shame; sure that he had done something wrong as Zoro spat wide over the railing. The swordsman wiped at his face with the back of his arm, managing to clean up rather quickly while Sanji lay there, stupid and numb. He didn't know about the etiquette that followed this sort of scenario; a small, weak part of him waiting for Zoro to walk away and leave him alone. That would hurt even worse than this horrible silence that followed Sanji's cries of pleasure.

"Is . . . is that it? You didn't . . . um- . . ." Sanji trailed off, realizing he didn't really know what to call that powerful crescendo of thrilling sensation. Hadn't ever had a need to, beyond the few times he spent jerking off alone when the relief became a necessity. It wasn't like Nami or Robin had returned a single affectionate gesture, while Sanji was still sticky-wet in some places from Zoro's kisses, tongue, and his own fluids leaking down his thighs and to the deck. He should have tried pulling his pants up or at least crossing his legs, but Sanji couldn't do anything but look up at Zoro in baited apprehension.

"Chopper said you were hurt _inside_, right? I don't have to outright fuck you every time," Zoro explained crudely, a smirk playing across his face. Sanji say anything back to that, his jaw hanging open in shock as he digested Zoro's words. He felt the lingering heat in his groin rush straight up to his cheeks, blushing so hard that his ears began to burn. What possible sort of pleasure could Zoro derive from Sanji shooting a load into his face, watching as Sanji squirmed and cried like a virgin girl on her wedding night? He felt sick and dizzy, even worse than when he had first come out here. Sanji managed to sit up a bit, looking around for his shirt and the cigarettes that should be in the front pocket- . . . .

He didn't even notice until Zoro thudded down beside him, settling himself against Sanji's side without another word. He had to pause at that, come face to face with Zoro's well-defined abdomen and chest. The huge, puckered scar that ran across the front of his torso only made Zoro seem bigger, despite being significantly shorter when they were sitting down. There was quite a collection of older wounds that Zoro had never cared to share the origin of- but there was a reason why people had called him _the _Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. Even so, right now, Zoro was just an overly affectionate jerk that didn't know half of the damage he caused; or how spectacular he could make Sanji feel.

"What, now you're smiling? I _knew _you liked it," Zoro teased, able to be a complete ass in so few words. Sanji glared at the man who took his partial blindness into account and worked around it without pitying him, who had the patience to let Sanji run away and recover before trying again; wasn't out to completely humiliate and dominate him. _Whatever_ his intentions were, Zoro was already being honest and up front, not the type of person smart enough to have some ulterior goal. He just wanted to screw regularly, which was better than anything Sanji had before.

"You fucking idiot," he growled out, elbowing Zoro in the side. The swordsman grunted at the impact, leaning harder into Sanji for it. He didn't know why he felt so much more comfortable around Zoro now, that awkward friction between them disappearing without a trace. Sanji let his head rest on Zoro's shoulder, the adrenaline finally wearing off into a bone-deep exhaustion. He didn't mind that Zoro was covered in a layer of dry sweat and stinking like hell. There was something subtler than that, like the faintly sweet, chemical scent Zoro used on his blades to keep the leather hilts soft and the blades sharp. Those swords were probably the only things Zoro ever taken proper care of in his life . . . though he was obviously trying with Sanji. He couldn't resist that earnest and clumsy affection, closing his eyes as he soaked up Zoro's warmth through their bare skin. He could stay here for just as long as they had stood together out on deck last night, enjoying Zoro's silent company; whether the swordsman was sleeping through the quiet parts or not.

Thinking of the man, he felt Zoro stiffen up beside him, jolting Sanji out of the nice little spot he had made. Sanji was already starting on a curse and then choking as he noticed that the heat hadn't just been coming from Zoro's body but the sun finally burning off the fog. There wasn't any smoky cover now, nothing but the blue sky and empty deck . . .

. . . _almost _empty, noticing a figure perched on the edge of the railing.

Luffy was watching them with his usual unblinking, blank gaze, chewing on the end of a fish bone from the meal that had fallen to the floor earlier. Zoro and Sanji were both frozen as they realized their positions; their captain not even breaking his stare as a rubber arm stretched out to snatch the dirty cut of steak from the deck. The only sound was Luffy chewing loudly and the rhythmic beat of the waves against the hull of the ship. Sanji looked down in discomfort, eyes widening as the fact that he was still mostly naked was thrown in his face.

Sanji yelped out a curse before grabbing Zoro by the arm and hiding behind his broad back. He made Zoro a physical divider as he scrambled for the pants twisted around his ankles; hands shaking so badly that he could barely get his belt on. He looked about for his shirt and spotted it hanging off the stairs down to the main deck. Of fucking _course _Zoro would have to toss it as far possible.

"How long have you been watching?" Zoro demanded, not a hint of modesty in his voice. Why _would _Zoro have to feel embarrassed, when Sanji was the only one who had gotten off? Sanji just concentrated on making himself smaller at the moment, muscles contracting down as tightly as possible.

"A while. It seemed like fun," Luffy answered back around gnawing on his stolen meal. At least Sanji wouldn't have to worry about what to do with the wasted food after it had been on the floor, but he should have known that Luffy wouldn't care. He had already sat through them kissing, stripping down, and screaming aloud with pleasure. Sanji felt a blush coming back in full as he recalled he'd been the only one making so much noise.

"'Fun?'" Zoro echoed back as if he hadn't ever heard the word before. Sanji felt the man's shoulders shake before the sound of Zoro chuckling slightly carried to Sanji's ears. Luffy and him alike stared at Zoro as if the man had gone crazy, while his laughter only grew . . . and eventually Sanji started laughing along with him without even really knowing why.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

What's a pirate's favorite kind of sock?

'_ARRRRRRRgyle.'_

**RANT:** Jesus Christ fucking Madonna on a motor bike, why does everyone take their One Piece so serious? It's a damn comedy in the end, THIS is a fan fiction, and further more . . .

NOBODY IS PAYING ME TO WRITE THIS!

So, to the people who are getting hung up on one centimeter of a difference in height, I don't give a damn about the metric system. I'm American. As for the ACTUAL birthdays and other such OFFICIAL One Piece 'facts' . . .

It's called fan fiction for a reason. I like it this way. Give me money and I will go back and reread my work. Until then it's on my beta-ers' heads, and they do an unbelievable, fucking, amazing, unselfish favor by reading through my stuff. Stop blaming them and address me in an email if it bothers you so much. I'm writing just to have fun. It's even better when other people like it and make mention of why they liked it.

That's the _only _reward I get, so stop ruining it for me, you homophobic, PG-13, whiny little anal asses.

Everyone else who was chill with the story, I'm sorry you had to read this little bit at the end.

_Suki, suki, five dolla, me love you looong time. _

You encourage this fic able to stagger on in its debilitated, disabled, democratic gait.

Just like public television, gay smut is made possible by reviewers like you.

Love, the gher.


End file.
